The Scientific Method
by ReconstructWriter
Summary: "After two years of failures you'd have better luck asking Phantom to be your lab-rat," Jazz said. The Fentons decide to try just that.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Question**

Maddie Fenton slipped closer to the battle, ecto-gun aimed at the dueling ghosts. Phantom casually shielded its head while blasting another arrow to ash inches from the frightened faces of a fleeing family. Archer released three explosive arrows just as Phantom wrapped an ecto-shield around the other ghost. Trapped within Phantom's shield, the explosion had only one victim. Archer hit the other end of the bubble, bow slipping from its limp grasp. Phantom traded the bubble-shield for its stolen Fenton thermos and sucked the other ghost away. Faced with only one opponent, Maddie and her husband open-fired.

Only for the wily spook to dodge with serpentine grace, legs shifting into a tail. "Yeesh, you can't give a guy a break?"

"We're not leaving Amity Park helpless to your destructive designs," bellowed Jack.

"What destruction," It waved its hands around the pristine apartment-lined streets. "I haven't touched a thing."

"He saved us." a child shouted.

"Thank you Phantom."

"You're wel—" Maddie tried another shot, "Agh. Alright, I'm leaving."

* * *

Jack Fenton slammed his fist at the dinner table, "And Phantom fled rather than do battle with the mighty Fentons."

"Or, y'know, he might not have wanted to kick your asses from here to Chicago," Danny grumbled beneath his breath.

"What was that dear?" Maddie asked brightly from across the steamed broccoli.

"Nothing, continue your story about _almost_ catching Phantom…again," Danny said. Jazz gave him a look and Danny went back to his dinner with the appetite of six people.

"These confrontations are important." Maddie explained. "We need to show that ectoplasmic scum not everyone in Amity is fooled by its heroic act, otherwise it will take over."

"After two years? If he's truly evil, Phantom is putting on an incredibly good act," Jasmine pointed out. "One of my psychology classes brought up a study on deep undercover agents and the length of time they could reliably infiltrate an enemy group before becoming assimilated. Professional agents averaged about one year."

"Once an evil ectoplasmic entity, always an evil ectoplasmic entity Jazz. Don't be fooled," Jack warned.

Once, Danny would have reacted to such comments. The numbness toward their parents' opinions of his alter ego were worse than any outward sign of disappointment. Was Danny becoming dissociated with the insults or internalizing them? What would happen while Jazz was away at college? She only had a few more weeks at the house.

"Besides Jazz honey, those psychological reports are on humans. Not ghosts," her mom added.

"Exactly," said Jazz, "and haven't many of your own reports concluded the psychological impossibility of an obsessed ghost acting against that obsession? Even if said obsession would doom their existence."

"I'm glad you're reading our work Jazz," Maddie said, "But we do show ghostly obsessions will inevitably twist toward evil, no matter how good intentioned they begin."

Danny stood up suddenly, clattering his clean plate. "I'm gonna hang out at Tucker's. See you later."

"Okay sweetie, have fun," Maddie waved him goodbye. Danny didn't return the gesture.

"Actually I'm going to go with him," Jazz said. Looking at her parents, she confessed a little of her inner turmoil. "He worries me."

"He worries us too sometimes," Jack confessed, looking graver than she'd ever seen her dad. Then he perked up again. "But the ghosts worry us more."

Rolling her eyes, Jazz grumbled, "You know after two years of failures you'd have better luck asking Phantom to be your lab-rat."

* * *

Since Danny could fly while Jazz decided to walk, by the time Jazz got to Tucker's, her brother had worked himself into a rant.

"Two years. Two years of rescuing people from burning buildings, stopping robbers and rapists and murderers, of fighting ghosts that actually hurt people," he paced in front of his friends. "I've saved the whole town more times than I can count. I've saved their lives over and over again…" Anger gave way to sullen frustration and Danny slumped on the Foley couch, staring at the ceiling. "And they haven't even let up a little on the whole 'evil ghost' thing."

"Welcome to the joys of bigotry," Tucker said.

"I just…wonder sometimes if telling them will do any good. Or if I should just keep my mouth shut forever."

"I don't think that's psychologically healthy," Jazz said.

"Secrets don't have a great shelf life," Sam added.

"You're secret is lucky my parents are fine leaving me alone and always out of the house," Tucker said.

"My parents work in our house. They don't have reasons to leave," Danny argued.

"I'm glad my parents are sticking around more for once," Sam admitted. "Grandma's getting worse."

Danny cringed, his dark replaced with sympathy. Sure, they'd all seen people die in their time as heroes. But Ida was her parent and best friend and support all in one. Worse, if she did come back as a ghost, with all the ghost hunters around and the anti-ecto act…

"Well than what are we lazing around here for," said Tucker. "Let's head over to your house and see if your grandma still knows her way around a game controller."

* * *

After Jazz left, Jack watched the front door with unusual consideration. "You know Mads, Jazz might have a point. She does know the ghostly mind."

"To ask Phantom?" Part of her automatically rejected the idea. All logic concluded that a ghost would refuse entrance into a ghost-hunter's lab. Ectologists had to be ghost hunters by nature. The concept of a ghost would willingly allowing dissection was completely ludicrous. A mad idea only the insane would consider.

She shrugged, "It couldn't hurt."

* * *

Phantom took one last look at the alleyway, saw the other ghosts had gotten clean away, and turned intangible as the Fentons rounded the corner.

"Wait," bellowed Jack.

Phantom paused for a moment, ready to dodge. Both Fentons slowed down, panting with the effort of keeping up with the elusive specter. For such an infamous ghost, Phantom was also the most mysterious and after weeks of trying, this was the closest they had come to the slippery spirit.

The temptation to fire on the ectoplasmic entity took hold, but Jack relaxed his hands and Maddie released her ecto-gun. They were so close and Phantom was so still, hovering within spitting distance, arms crossed cockily behind its head. By all appearances, taking it down would have been easy, especially after reported hours of rescue operations.

But after two years of failed attempts, the Fentons weren't fooled by appearances. The ghost's back was pressed against the nearby building and it had yet to become tangible. One wrong move and it would dive through the wall.

Perhaps Jazz had a point.

Maddie didn't go so far as to disarm herself, but she raised her hands in a universal peace gesture. Jack set his enormous ecto-bazooka on the ground and raised his hands as well. The crowd that had fled from what promised to be a fight began edging closer. Good. Maybe with so many _adoring_ fans Phantom would not fling their offer back in their faces.

"If you're surrendering I'm not down with the whole 'taking prisoners' thing," Phantom quibbled, but turned tangible.

"We just want to talk." Maddie ignored the ghost's 'witty' humor.

Phantom looked suspicious. "Really? Now?" Sarcasm thick as ectoplasm in its tone. "Two years of 'evil ghost rip it apart molecule by molecule' and you want to talk? Why?"

Maddie gritted her teeth; she had forgotten how annoying this ghost could be, especially with its confidence in their peaceful intentions. She took a deep breath and unclenched. Excusing their perfectly acceptable behavior would lead to an argument, then most likely a fight and their chance would be gone. This was for science.

Now, how to politely ask a ghost to submit to standard ectologist procedures? They would have to be cautious in their wording, persuasive and convincing in tone, a battle of words that would inevitably lead Phantom toward one logical conclusion. This had to be done with subtlety and care.

"Would you be our lab rat?" Jack asked.

Maddie face-palmed.

Before Phantom's expression landed on 'disgusted' it looked almost…hurt. The apology, necessary to keep the ghost from fleeing, came a little easier.

"I'm sorry," she jabbed her husband with an elbow, "My husband can be rude."

"Oookaaay, I have gone temporarily deaf because I can't have heard Dr. Maddie Fenton, dogmatic ghost hunter, apologize to me."

Maddie stiffened at the description as Jack rubbed his side, "But we just want to study you and…well we've never tried asking before so…will you?"

"I'm not going to let you rip me apart molecule by molecule because you ask _nicely_."

That wasn't an immediate no, Maddie thought. "So what procedures are acceptable?"

Phantom looked between the two of them as though trying to decide if they were serious. But its ghostly tail had transformed back into feet and it hovered away from the wall. "You're asking me to willingly walk into the laboratory of two ghost hunters who have shouted that they're going to rip me apart molecule by molecule since day one? Why would I do that?"

Husband and wife exchanged glances, realizing just how slim their chances were. How did someone go about persuading a ghost under such circumstances? They needed an inspiring speech, an utterly convincing phrase, words that would do the impossible and make one of the dead empathize with two of the living.

"For science?" tried Jack.

Phantom face-palmed.

"All we've ever wanted to do is learn about ghosts. Understand ghosts," Maddie beseeched. "We thought the only way to do that was by capture and…unwilling experimentation. However, considering your past," she fumbled for a moment before allowing, "heroic…behavior, especially recently, we are open to the idea of asking."

"How generous," grumbled Phantom.

"We could learn so much about ghosts from you." Maddie gained confidence. "We could find the truth about all ectoplasmic entities. You have said ghosts aren't evil and held yourself as an example, wouldn't you—and all good ghosts—benefit from research that proves you moral, sapient beings?"

"Yeah," added Jack, "Wouldn't be heroic to turn us down and let some other poor ectoplasmic," another elbow jab, "uh ectoplasmic being take your place?"

Despite the withering glare Phantom gave them, it still hadn't said no. Jack danced with all the eagerness of a child needing to use the rest room. The ghost hovered between the brick wall of the nearest building and more open air. Maddie considered how quickly she could get a shot off, but the ghost hadn't turned them down yet. When it did…but that white head was still bent in thought. More people crowded closer, eager for a spectacle that wasn't likely to end in ectoplasmic blasts and destruction. The media pulled up by the time Phantom made up its mind. "I'll think about it."

"Wait." Maddie shouted, "How do we contact you?"

"I'll call you." Phantom turned intangible and dove through the building's wall.

The Media pounced.

* * *

"Are you insane." Tucker's shouted, ignoring his titanic triple-meaty tender in favor of his, clearly crazy, friend.

Danny glanced around, but even Tucker's voice couldn't penetrate the Nasty Burger's usual background noise.

"I will repeat, in horrific detail, all of my attempts to get my parents to understand. Anything." Sam said. "They don't. It is the curse of the current generation to be stuck with an oblivious previous generation," said Sam. "I'd have better luck telling my parents I'm bisexual."

Tucker nodded, "You guys make me grateful for my parents."

"Actually." Jazz spoke in a 'you're not going to like this tone'. Even Tucker and Sam sat up. "Working with mom and dad, as Phantom, might be the best solution."

"What?"

"You're agreeing with me?" said Danny.

"Doc needs some of her own medicine," Tucker tapped his temple.

"Look, we all want mom and dad to be more accepting of ghosts in general. It would solve a _lot_ of problems." Everyone nodded in agreement, even Sam. "What better way to convince them ghosts can be good than with you Danny? Besides, they don't believe any ghost would agree. If you did agree that alone might shock them out of their complacent 'all ghosts are evil' mindset."

"And the molecule by molecule ripping?" Sam asked.

"No one wants Danny safer than me. But if mom and dad keep hunting ghosts like they do, Danny, you will be in danger. Something needs to change."

"But why this?" Sam asked. "When Freakshow exposed you to everyone during that Reality Gauntlet mess they accepted you. Couldn't you just…tell your parents?" Her head fell into her hands, "I can't believe I just suggested that."

"Yeah," Danny prodded his ketchup with a fry. "That would help me. Wouldn't do much good for all the other ghosts being ripped apart molecule by molecule'." In a lower voice he added, "And that was then."

"Whenever have things gone smoothly?" said Sam.

"Yeah, with your luck you could get dissected by your own parents," Tucker added.

Jazz glared at them, "With the way things are, he could still get dissected by our parents if something doesn't change."

"Or that," Danny deadpanned. "But it might be worth the risk."

"With the right plan," said Jazz.

Sam raised her head. "It's your decision. And when it goes ass-up we'll bail you out."

"I guess so, but this sounds like another Pariah Dark." Tucker held up his hands at Danny's glare. "Sorry dude but it's the truth. This could go bad. Your worst nightmare bad."

"I know, but my parents did some points. This is the right thing to do," Danny's smile suddenly turned unheroic, "Besides, if they figure the whole halfa out on their own…Vlad can hardly blame _me_ for blabbing his secret identity."

Sam jabbed her fork in her salad. "If you're going to do this, you're going to do this right. If they want a willing participant make it clear they need to follow your rules. No means no. If they break those rules, the deal is over."

"And let us know when so we can have your back," Tucker added.

Danny mulled it over. Having all of team Phantom as backup would go a long way toward keeping disaster away, but if his secret was revealed, would his parents accuse his friends and sister of sabotage? Would the status quo go back to the way it was? What if the four of them together accidentally gave something away?

Besides, this was between his parents and himself…as Phantom. Jazz would call it some kind of psychotherapy facing your fears or nonsense like that but he needed to do this on his own. And if the Fentons—respected ghost scientists—concluded that ghosts could feel and think and shouldn't be ripped apart molecule by molecule, other people might start thinking the same. Ecto-rights might have a chance. The GIW might give in to pressure to back down.

Valerie might stop her impression of Skulker. For a day. Maybe.

"We do need a plan," said Danny. "Can you hack into their security Tucker? Just in case?"

"In my sleep," Tucker turned to his newest electronic gizmo.

"Sam, I'll need some good ideas for what limits to set and Jazz, I'll need you to dig into their heads. If nothing else, I need to know what buttons to push."

"Do you want the book or a summary?" Jazz asked.

"I can give you a top ten list…as long as you don't ask where I got the suggestions," Sam said, smirking.

* * *

"Drs Fenton and Fenton, what makes you think the entity known as Phantom would willingly surrender itself for experimentation? Especially given its elusiveness over the last two years?" asked Agent O.

Even Jack was beginning to regret their offer. The press had filmed it and now everyone had an opinion on what should have been a matter between experimenters and experimented. Cameras followed them around in hopes of finding Phantom. The GIW hounded them more than they did ghosts.

"Didn't hurt to ask," Jack said.

"But it's insanity, a ghost willingly submitting themselves to the experiments of ghost hunters," said Agent K.

"The true definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results," Maddie pointed out. "We've tried a thousand different ways to capture it and failed. Perhaps this insanity, as you call it, won't."

"Are you saying Phantom is an altruistic ghost," Lance Thunder asked.

"Of course not! The mayor—" Jack began.

"The mayor, the thefts, Christmas, yes we know," Mr. Thunder continued. "However you cannot dismiss the battle with Pariah Dark, with Vortex, that demon invasion he stopped, Hurricane Katrina…and that list goes on even longer than the first."

"No," agreed Maddie, "That is part of the reason why we need to study him."

"Still, you have been chasing Phantom for all its known existence in Amity Park, why would it agree to assist ghost hunters now?" Agent O interrupted.

"It has a pattern of assisting ghost hunters," Maddie said. "Jack and I when the Wisconsin ghost struck. Even the Red Huntress has reported being able to make a deal."

"And Phantom said it'd think about our idea," Jack added. "That's not a no."

Another reporters stepped up to ask something when Phantom appeared. The GIW drew their weapons while every reporter turned their cameras to the ghost. Fingers held in a peace-sign, Phantom shot a pair of ecto-blasts, disarming the white-suits before turning to the Fentons.

"I've thought about…your proposal," Phantom said.

Even the GIW agents paused and listened at that. The cameras followed his every move and word. The Fentons stared up at him, silently beseeching—

"Please. Please. —"

—Not-so-silently beseeching him for help.

"No ripping apart molecule by molecule," he said.

"Of course not," said Maddie happily.

"No vivisection or dissection or any kind of sections."

"None at all," said Jack.

"I get veto power on any experiments. For any reason," Phantom said. "If I say no, it doesn't happen."

"You're the volunteer," added Maddie.

"Please," Jack begged again.

Danny Phantom floated to the ground, his ghostly tail materializing into a pair of legs. With his feet touching the sidewalk he was nearly as tall as Jack, though not so wide. Hoping against hope that he was not making the biggest mistake of his life—afterlife—whatever, he held out his hand.

"Okay."

* * *

 **A/N:** I swear the Phandom is the most addicting fandom. Can't keep away. I've read some wonderful stories about tortured-lab-rat Phantom and a handful of others where, post-revelation, Danny lets his parents run some basic experiments...but I don't think I've come across this idea. Decided to give it a try.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Wow, I was blown away by your responses! Thank you all so much for your enthusiastic encouragement. To everyone who asked, yes! I'm finishing this story—especially after so many people liked it. Thank you!

Guest: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like the concept. I haven't read this exact idea before, but was inspired by the loads of 'lab-rat Danny Phantom' and a couple of 'willing experimentee after his parents find out' Danny Phantom and just smooshed the two ideas together.

ORZA: Thank you! Your enthusiasm is contagious!

Guest: Glad you like both the premises and my writing :D I've not seen much of this specific idea so I decided to give it a try.

 **Chapter 2: Observation**

"YES!" Jack grabbed Phantom's hand with both massive ones, nearly throwing him off his feet. "Ha, ha, I'll get the Fenton ectoplasmic analyzer."

"Woah, wait a minute." He turned his hand intangible to free it. "It's late now. I've got stuff to do, you've got prep to do." He floated off the ground.

"So when do you propose?" asked Maddie.

Danny thought. School days were out. He'd skipped too many already. Ghosts (and ghost hunters) always made more trouble at night and he'd be catching up on his sleep through the morning so…

"Sunday, one o'clock," he said.

"That's five _days_ away," Jack whined, as though 'days' were 'eternities'.

"Honey," Maddie glared at her husband before turning back to him. "Sunday at one will work just fine. Meet us in the lab?"

Danny Phantom nodded hesitantly, "Right. The lab. See you there."

* * *

"Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes," Jack burst through the front door, through the living room and kitchen and down to the lab, shouting as he went.

Jazz glanced from her book to her mother, who was only slightly less excitable, "I take it he didn't veto the suggestion," she said dryly.

"Oh honey," Maddie swept her daughter off the couch and into a hug. Her book went flying. "You were right, he agreed."

"Yes!" Jack's voice boomed through the house. "Oh this is going to be so exciting. Where did I put the Fenton ecto-container?"

"In the kitchen honey." Maddie released her daughter. "Phantom's false heroic complex wouldn't allow it to answer any other way surrounded by a crowd. We used its very obsession against it."

"Cue the lightning and mad scientist laugh," Jazz mumbled. "Mom, you and dad did agree to certain rules for this study."

"Well yes."

"And you're planning on _adhering_ to those rules," she added.

Her parents remained oblivious. "Of course, dear," Maddie said absently, "But the ghost agreed. It's a done deal. Now where did I put the Fenton Weasel."

"Exactly what did Phantom agree to?" Her over-enthusiastic parents clearly didn't hear the question.

Danny stepped in moments later, looking glumly down to the lab, then at his parents scrambling around for every ghost-studying tool they'd ever invented. Her little brother had the forlorn look of regretted life choices. Deeply regretted life choices.

"Danny, what on earth did you agree to? I thought—"

"Just what you said," He tugged at his collar. "I'll tell them the rest of the conditions later. When they get all this out of their system." He walked miserably toward his room.

"I'll help you write up a contract," Jazz said.

Clang. Wham. "Oh look, I found the Fenton Crammer."

"—After I calm them down."

"You don't have to. I can…" but Jazz had already put aside the rest of her work and headed down to the lab.

"Stop." Jasmine ordered her parents.

The pair paused at the unique combination of authoritative voice coming from their teenage daughter. Her dad was still holding an old invention, either to spruce it up or more likely to cannibalize all the sharp pointy bits into something even worse. Her mom, meanwhile, had nearly finished surrounding a dissection table with every kind of ghost study tool Jazz had ever heard of. Any one of them would scar her brother for life. Did they really think any ghost would allow this?

"Honey, we're a little busy right now. We've only got five days to prepare for the most exciting ectology examination yet," Maddie said

"Practically no time," Jack moaned.

"And how long do you think Phantom, or any ghost, is going to stick around seeing all this?" She gestured to the lab, "Has it entered either of your heads how Phantom must feel? You've hunted him and shot him and threatened to rip him apart molecule by molecule while yelling that he's an unfeeling piece of ectoplasmic scum. He's showing incredible courage by just agreeing to step into your lab."

"Oh honey, ghosts don't feel like we do," Maddie said automatically.

Jazz glowered. "How would you like it if you volunteered to help a bunch of ghosts with their experiments and came into a room like this?"

Her parents glanced at each other. "The ecto-containment container might be a little redundant," Maddie allowed.

Jazz face-palmed. Yelling won't work. Yelling won't work. Suppress the urge to scream at the oblivious parents. She slid her hand off her face. "Look, you want to study Phantom for multiple sessions, right? To confirm data, construct new hypotheses and test them rigorously?"

"Of course," said Jack.

"And you want him to do this willingly," she added.

"Sweetie, he's already agreed."

"To one session. That's not blanket permission." She made a note to put something just like that in the contract she was going to write up. "He could change his mind for any reason. He's not obligated to be your guinea pig." She nodded to the lab, "And you're giving him a lot of good reasons to back out. Unless your whole plan was…to break your promise and trap him here?"

"Now that's exactly the kind of cunning a ghost-hunter needs," Jack said proudly.

Jazz stifled her outrage. It would bounce right off their skulls. She needed an excuse, some way to talk them out of doing exactly that. "He's escaped before. You'll be back to square one. Didn't you say something in your interview about the definition of insanity."

"We did," Maddie reluctantly agreed.

Jazz relaxed a little. "Then you're going to have to make it a tiny bit more welcoming than a torture chamber. Otherwise you won't get to test him."

They both stared at their daughter, as two people who hadn't realized when she had grown up.

"Okay Jazzy—Jasmine, any suggestions?"

Jazz sighed in relief. "Right, first things first, get rid of everything sharp and pointy and put some covering or padding over that table, it looks like something you'd cut open a frog on."

Her parents exploded. "They're what we always use."

"Absolutely not. We won't be able to use any of our previous data. The difference in tools alone would invalidate any comparative experiments," Maddie said.

"Do you really think Phantom's going to agree to being cut open? He's going to want non-invasive tests at the very least. Design new instruments," she picked up what looked like a stiletto with a mechanical reader, "Something that looks less like an assassin's weapon."

"That's the same instrument we've used forever," Jack cradled it lovingly.

"And you should dismantle anything that could contain him. Especially the ghost shield."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. Besides, that's the house's main defense," Maddie said.

"How badly do you want to study Phantom? You have admitted he's a clever and wily ghost. If he thinks this is a trap, he's going to bolt. If he sees a torture chamber, he's going to bolt. This is your chance for an unprecedented study—do you really want to blow it?" At the dismissive looks on her parents' faces, she changed tactics. "Just…if you make it easy for him to escape, he's more likely to stay. Leave the door open. Keep the ghost portal open."

"Is this a reverse-psychology thing?" Her dad asked.

"Yes," Jazz sighed. It was the easiest answer.

"We can do that," said Maddie reasonably. "But non-invasive testing really does limit our research. Especially comparative analysis. He only said no vivisection."

"—or dissection or any other kind of section," Jack added. The Drs Fenton turned silent with their thoughts. Then Jack dropped the pile of parts he was carrying and cried over the clanging: "New inventions."

Ignored, Jazz left her parents to their less-cruel insanity and headed for her brother's room. He had his cellphone pressed to one ear and was surrounded by scattered papers, a pencil in hand as he scribbled down another idea. She could see 'no invasive procedures' from the doorway. "This looks like a good start."

"Why did I think this was a good idea?"

* * *

Jack opened the front door to see Phantom standing on his porch. Hunter's instinct rose, but he suppressed it. Jazzikins wasn't wrong about how spooked this spook could be. "Come on in. We've got the lab all set up."

Phantom nodded stiffly, "…thanks, Dr. Fenton."

He couldn't quite bring himself to say, 'Call me Jack.' Phantom was too much a ghost, for all it was walking, not flying. The ghost pulled out a thick stack of papers before setting foot in the house. "Before anything else, this lists all the things I definitely won't do and I get veto power on anything else."

Jack blinked, "I need to sign this?" And he scribbled his signature before Phantom could get in another word. Not that it would stand in court. Heh, Phantom in court, now that would be an even weirder idea than a ghost willingly following him to the lab.

"Right down here." Jack opened the door.

Phantom paused again, staring warily down into the basement. Maybe his daughter had a point with all the sharp instruments. And the 'looking like a trap' thing. The ghost did look ready to fly if it spotted a hint of a scalpel. Finally, it stepped carefully into the lab. It must not have been used to the ground because it walked stiffly and awkwardly down the steps.

"Good, it's here." Maddie, in her hazmat suit and safety goggles like an insect's eyes, looked odd so disarmed. She stiffened as the ghost's gaze turned to the other person in the lab.

"Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?" Phantom asked Jasmine.

"My daughter is here for observational purposes," said Maddie. "She is an aspiring college student and wishes to create the branch of ecto-psychology," Maddie finished this off proudly. It wasn't ghost hunting, but the ghost bug finally bit Jazzy—figuratively, not literally of course. "She's here to evaluate your emotional state."

The ghost cocked an eyebrow. "O-kay, don't see why you'd need an expert."

Maddie worried for her daughter. Jazz was onto something, but her parental worry about a thing between Phantom and her daughter wouldn't go away. Why had Jazz so eagerly volunteered her help when she'd spent most of the week criticizing every experimental method they'd come up with. What did that glance between them mean?

Jazz did have a point though. Their re-modeled lab was coaxing the ghost deeper. Their tool set didn't contain a single pointy or sharp thing. The open ghost portal bathed everything in an eerie green but the sight of an escape route clearly gave the ghost confidence enough to stay. Jazz had even left a tray of cookies by the table, despite Maddie's protests about contamination and Jack's protests about not sharing.

"So…tests?" Phantom questioned, standing by the table.

"We were hoping to start with the basic tests," the ghost stiffened, "All non-invasive." She added. "Some scans of your body's composition. Temperature. Ectoplasmic make-up. Maybe a hair sample?"

"Hair sample is fine," it said. "How are you going to measure temperature?"

Jack brought out the new instrument, after Jazz's unflattering comparison of the older one. Given how suspiciously Phantom was eying their non-invasive instruments, Maddie knew the ghost would have bolted if they'd taken out the old one.

"And where are you going to insert that?" Phantom asked suspiciously.

"In your mouth if you keep it open," Maddie snapped.

Jazz put a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, it's a scanner, not anything insertable," she told the ghost.

Phantom glared, but obligingly sat on the exam table. They activated the scanner.

The first look with the new instrument was worth the frustration of the whole agreement. The Ecto-Thermal Scanner was able to give them an image of a ghost in shades of heat and cold rather than ectoplasmic green. "That's strange," Maddie double-checked the circuitry.

"Fascinating," Jack leaned closer to the image. Yes, it was still working properly.

"What's fascinating?" asked Phantom and Jazz at the same time.

"The temperature is exceptionally warm through most of the body. Warmer than a ghost should be. But the cold…how can such cold and heat exist in the same body?"

"Ice core," Phantom said.

"What is a core?" Maddie asked.

"It's…like the center of a ghost's power. You develop one if you're powerful enough. Mine's ice," it explained.

"No wonder we couldn't catch you," Jack said. "Copper is super-conductive in cold temperatures and all ghosts have copper in their ectoplasm like we have iron in our blood. But there's some kind of shield here. The E-scanner is having a hard time with it?"

"Extra protection from heat? That would make it more heat resistance, but the densities are incredibly off. It's fascinating," Maddie said.

"Mom," Jazz said warningly, glancing at Phantom, "Mind explaining that?"

"Phantom's," she paused and included the ghost in her address, "Your ectoplasm is denser than normal, except for this," she tugged at the suit. "Your suit has normal ectoplasmic density but the rest hints at a far more complex structure.

"Does this come off?" Jack asked suddenly, tugging at the suit.

Phantom floated away, "Woah, woah no one said anything about a strip search." Jack pulled away like a wounded puppy.

"Perhaps," Jazz interrupted, "They could take off your glove?"

"Yes."

Separated from Phantom, the glove behaved like normal ectoplasm, reverting to the liquid state. It was beneath the glove that captured the attention of both scientists.

A hand.

Ghosts were constructs of ectoplasm given form and personality by the vestiges of consciousness imprinted upon that ectoplasm during death. This resulted in simplified, warped perceptions of who they were. Their looks were literally skin-deep. Beneath was nothing but formless ectoplasm.

Or so their theory went.

But beneath that glove was not ectoplasmic jell—it was skin. Tan and calloused, the only difference between that hand and their own was the faint glow around Phantom's.

Not possible. A ghost should be static. Any marks it had the product of a past life. Yet Phantom's calluses were obviously due to its current ghost fights, the pattern was far too familiar for Maddie to deduce anything else. It's scars too were recent, not from the life it once had. A pink line bisected the palm. Two lightly-puckered circles mirrored each other on both sides of the hand where Maddie remembered a rare, successful shot. A few other pale nicks and cuts here and there, barely discerned beneath the glow. What really drew the eye was a jagged line of green vanishing beneath the black suit.

Jack reached again for the ghost's suit only for Jazz to stop him. "Remember to ask," she hissed.

"Phantom…can we see the rest of this?" Jack asked, pointing to the scar.

"This is so exciting, ghosts aren't supposed to have scars, especially not scars from battle. Wasn't that from last week," Maddie pointed to the largest cut.

"Yeah. I heal quickly," Phantom said.

"But this scar. Can we see more?" Jack asked.

The ghost slipped off the table, shattering the illusion of a compliant specimen. Maddie glanced toward the hidden 'safety switch'. After turning off all their security and opening the ghost portal on her daughter's recommendation, she'd re-wired everything to one hidden switch. A push of a button and their house would be their castle once more. Just in case.

"Stop!" Jazz shouted. Maddie's hand, hovering above the switch, paused and she stared at her daughter in disbelief. "Do you need time?"

"Of course we do, but Phantom flying off won't—" She broke off, staring at the ghost who had also obeyed her daughter. She hadn't even been talking to them.

"D—Phantom?"

Its back was turned so Maddie couldn't read anything of its intentions. Her daughter walked right up to the ghost.

"Jazz. Hold it right there."

"Hey easy," Phantom raised its hands. "I'm not about to hurt her."

"Are you okay? Do you need to stop this?" Jazz asked.

"No." Jack shouted. Jazz glared at him.

Phantom shook its head. "It's just…unexpected. I guess…yeah…this needs to be done."

"You don't have to—"

"If I leave I'll just talk myself out of it." To the shock of both Drs the ghost turned away from the open door and settled back on the table. Jack stared at his daughter with a mix of pride and awe, but Maddie frowned suspiciously. What had just happened between them?

"Okay…you can look, I guess."

Phantom shrugged his arm out of the suit, revealing more branching green scars amid other faint signs of injury. The jagged lines looped around its arm before splitting at the shoulder into two great veins. One branching out over the chest, to disappear beneath the suit again. The other vanished into snow-white hair, presumably to flare out as well.

Both scientists sobered. They hadn't seen such a scar in the flesh, but they had both seen pictures of that distinctive scarring.

Electricity caused it. A lot of electricity.

"What is this?" Maddie asked hesitantly.

Phantom took a breath, "That…that is how I died."

"But…it's a scar," Jack pointed out uncomfortably.

"A death scar." Phantom's hand went to the back of his neck in a familiar gesture. "Or that's the closest phrase in a living language."

Jack had to ask. "How did you die?"

The ghost scowled at them, "Asking about a ghost's death is really rude."

"Oh…right." Jack said. "Do most ghosts not talk about death?"

Phantom shrugged. "Depends on the ghost. Some can't stand to talk about it. Others can't shut up about it. Better not to ask, just in case."

After a moment of silence, Maddie switched tactics and subjects. "What is the most powerful ghost, in your opinion?"

She expected Phantom to name itself, as ghosts were innately vain creatures.

"Either Pariah Dark or Clockwork," Phantom said, after some thought. "Pariah Dark was the ghost king who transported all of Amity into the ghost zone the one time." The ghost looked down at his boots. "I only beat him with your ecto-suit, and even then, with a hundred times more power, I nearly died."

"Ghosts can't die," Maddie said.

Phantom glared at her, "Terminate existence then. And I have the right to call it death." His eyes were dark on her.

"Mom, dad, an acceptance of mortality, especially one's own mortality, is a sign of psychological maturity," Jazz piped up.

"What's Clockwork?" Jack interrupted, eager to get the conversation away from death.

"Who Clockwork is," Phantom corrected, "Is the ghost of time. He controls time: speeds it up, slows it down or stops it and he knows a lot. Knows what a person is doing, everything they could be doing, all the decisions they make…or don't make." At their worried faces, the ghost added, "But he's not a bad guy. You don't have to worry about him. He actually saved all your lives, so you should be thanking him."

"Really? And how did this 'Clockwork' manage that?"

Phantom flickered out of sight for a moment before re-appearing, "He…kept me from making mistakes. Some really bad ones." It floated off the examination table. "I think we're done…"

"Already?" Jack whined.

Maddie slipped casually toward the switch. As if sensing her intention, Phantom turned toward her, watching. Blue eyes met green. Phantom moved first. It didn't turn intangible. Didn't fly away. Just settled on two feet like the human it had once been. He stood and watched with old, tired eyes, giving her the perfect chance to break their deal.

* * *

 **A/N:** Happy Halloween everyone!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Several of you have pointed out that some of my plot twists are a little too twisty (thank you!). You're right. Now that I've finished this story and know how it ends, I can go back and smooth out a few plot lumps.

Guest: Thank you! That's such a relief to hear.

Guest (Guest): That is definitely an inner conflict with the Fentons: long-term research vs instant molecule-ripping. The only reason Danny isn't more nervous is he's got backup. Glad you're loving it and thanks for reviewing!

 **Chapter 3: Hypothesis**

Every hunter's instinct screamed at Maddie to press the button. To shut the portal, lock the lab door and empower every shield and security measure they had—containing Phantom within. They would never have a better chance than this.

But Phantom knew. It waited. Jack was watching her. So was Jazz. Her husband would spring the trap. Jazz looked ready to stop her, held in place only by the tense moment. But the ghost, that had everything to lose, hadn't moved.

An acceptance of fate? Or was it hoping she would press the button, so it could break their deal and maintain its 'heroic' persona? Did the ghost have another trick up its sleeve? "When will our next session be?" she asked.

It gave her hidden hand a pointed look until she stepped away from the button. "Never," it said sternly, "If you pull that on me again." It jabbed a finger at them, "I'm adding 'no traps' to the forbidden list." They said nothing. "If you're willing to keep your word, I'll meet you guys next week, same time."

"There's plenty of data to analyze and hypothesize about and test," Jazz pointed out.

"That's true," Jack said.

"You're welcome," Phantom said sarcastically.

"I will dismantle the switch." Maddie reluctantly conceded, "We will see you here at one?"

Phantom grumbled under its breath but nodded and left. Once the ghost was truly gone, Maddie said, "Jack, why don't you start the preliminary analysis. I would like to discuss some of the psychological findings with Jazz first."

"Not a problem. Okay baby, let's see the raw data." Jack turned to his beloved inventions and all three knew he wouldn't get sleep tonight.

Once out of the lab, Jazz asked, "Okay, what do you really want to talk about?"

"Your relationship with Phantom."

"Relationship?" Her daughter tried for an even tone of voice, but it was fake nonchalance to Maddie's practiced ear.

"Yes," Maddie swallowed every sort of discomfort she felt and tried approaching this as an understanding mother. Telling her daughter that ghosts were evil wouldn't be enough. She'd heard that all her life and still… "We should have seen it and there's nothing to be ashamed about. Phantom has fooled—" at her daughter's glare, Maddie switched tactics, "—many girls your age are…enamored with—" Jazz paled so fast she stopped. "What is it sweetie?"

"Enamored? You mean like a crush? Like romance? You think I…that we're _dating_?" Jazz's face turned bloodless; her skin twitched like she wanted to crawl out of it.

Those were promising reactions.

"Oh hell no," Jazz backed away, fingers digging into her scalp. "Ugh. I need brain bleach."

Maddie smiled sheepishly. "Sorry sweetie. The way you two were acting, that sounded like the most obvious solution."

Jazz, already half-way up the stairs, turned back to her mother. "Are you and dad going to invent brain-bleach?" Maddie shook her head. "Then I need to spread the misery." She headed to her brother's door and knocked. "Danny."

Maddie was still convinced of something between the two, but if it wasn't romance, it could wait. Especially with all the data they had gathered. She headed back to the lab.

They had scans. They had pictures. They had samples. Just the hair could be run through a dozen different tests. They would need those coming days; in a few precious hours of study time they had gathered more information about ghosts than they normally would have in weeks, maybe months. That reassured Maddie about letting the ghost go. It would return. It's obsession with the trappings of superheroes demanded keeping its word. A cage far more difficult to break than one of steel or ghost shields.

"Dija get things squared with Jazzy-kins?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Faintly they heard another shriek of horror from Danny's room. "Well, our children might be fonder of ghosts than we'd like, but not that fond."

"Not what fond?" Jack asked innocently.

"Jazz doesn't have a crush on Phantom."

"What? A crush?" At his wife's look, he toned it down, "But she doesn't have a crush on it?"

"No, and you might want to invent brain bleach sometime," Maddie plucked a strand of Phantom's hair for the Fenton centrifuge. Another went beneath the ecto-scope. Jack was already playing with the ecto-analyzer.

"Look at all this," Jack stared at the scans pictured on the screen, like an MRI scan but in hues of green. "No wonder he's able to fool people so easily. The whole composition of the body is so human."

Maddie stared at the image, which looked like nothing so much as a ghost overshadowing a human pattern. "How the hell did it happen? We've analyzed ghosts before, they're…blobs. Phantom has _organs_." A horrible thought occurred to her, "Is this…has it? Overshadowed someone? Has Phantom kidnapped some poor child and kept controlling them all this time?" Jack looked up, joy sliding off his face. "Tell me I'm wrong," Maddie said.

Jack didn't say anything for a moment, gaze distant. "The first invasion of Amity Park. The ghosts could make overshadowed humans fly."

Maddie swallowed. Parental fear demanded they do everything to keep the ghost out. To hunt it down and annihilate the threat. The scientific method demanded proper scrutiny and evidence. "Alternate hypotheses?" She forced herself not to give into blind panic, not yet. "Explain this?"

"Evolution?" Jack offered. "Instead of one ghost, maybe there's a million different species and we've only studied the amoebas?"

"Possible," Maddie made a note in their journals. "Most of our intact captures have been low-powered ghosts. If those are the ghost version of single-celled organisms—"

"And some ectologists have hypothesized the ghost zone is actually a separate world with its own separate native species," Jack said excitedly.

Maddie glanced back at the image they'd taken of the ghost. Only the heart looked at all inhuman, overlaid by a ghostly core. She turned away from the image. "The parallel evolution needed to ensure such an exact, complex copy of the human body despite a totally different environment…" She made another note of that. The evolution hypothesis _might_ still be possible, but it was looking more unlikely. "We have only just begun exploring the ghost zone. Proving a parallel evolution hypothesis would take years. Or decades. So we're back to long-term overshadowing."

"Maybe it's an experiment." Jack thought aloud, "Combining the human body with ectoplasm…to see what happens." He trailed off uncomfortably.

"That would have required a human body. Or…well, a corpse since ectoplasm can't bond with living tissue," Maddie said flatly. Jack shuddered. Such a thing was only slightly less horrific than long-term overshadowing of a living person. It wasn't something they would have normally thought of, let alone attempted, but some ectologists didn't follow their morality—or morals at all. It was a new field. Often a snubbed field. Ethical standards, unfortunately, were up to the ectologist. Not everyone had their scientific ethics.

"Well Mads, my evolution hypothesis just died," Jack said, pulling out the first pages of data from their scanners. "And this looks like support for your overshadowing hypothesis.

"How so?" She glanced at the data. "Keratin?" An ectoplasmic version of a human a la parallel evolution was a stretch, but the discovery of clearly living tissue within the ectoplasmic construct did, as Jack said, shoot his other hypothesis in the head. "This is impossible." She said before she thought.

"It exists. We've got enough hair to re-run the tests if we need to but," he waved a hand at the machine.

"Check it over, just in case," said Maddie, "I'll get another centrifuge started."

Their results didn't waver.

"We need to separate them. Free that poor child," said Maddie, crumpling the fresh pages in her grip.

"The Fenton Ghost Catcher." Jack declared.

"Where is that? I haven't seen it recently?" Maddie said.

"I'm not sure, but if we can't find it, I've got enough time to make a better one. When is Sunday?"

"Sev—no, six more days honey." They needed to get some rest.

Jack waded into the back of their lab, full of clutter from failed and forgotten inventions, searching. "Hey Mads, if this is overshadowing long-term…why haven't other ghosts done it? Not to poke holes…"

"Poke away," Maddie said. "That's part of the scientific method." More softly, she added, "I don't want this to be true." Dozens of ghosts did fit their hypotheses regarding ectoplasmic entities. Ergo, long-term overshadowing, or whatever Phantom was, didn't occur often. Or, she really hoped it didn't.

"So why wouldn't other ghosts over-shadow someone? It's right up their evil alley."

"Power constraints? Perhaps it takes too much power to keep the overshadowing going?" Maddie didn't know for sure. Neither of them did. Studying an overshadowed human was a deplorable breech in ethics. One they'd never condoned. Unfortunately, that meant the only information they had on overshadowing was what little observations they had before blasting ghosts out of people. "Or a unique power, making it especially skilled at overshadowing a single person. Like a parasite-ghost?"

Jack snapped his fingers, "Darnit. Why didn't you activate the safety switch?"

"I hadn't thought the ghost would enslave a human like that," Maddie said. "Besides, it _knew_ and it wasn't fleeing. That means it probably knew a way out of the trap. The point of a trap is to catch it off-guard."

"Should we re-wire the security system?"

"Yes, but with something that would only effect an overshadowed ghost. Something that, as soon as Phantom enters the room, will free the child." If she was wrong…well they could go from there.

"I can do that. Couldn't find the Fenton Ghost Catcher but we still have the blueprints for it in the files, right?"

"Under inventions: F," said Maddie. "So, hypothesis one: Phantom is a normal ghost—"

"It's not."

"For the sake of science and having a control: hypothesis one, normal ghost. Hypothesis two: long-term overshadowing of a human. Hypothesis three…" she shuddered, "A corpse with ectoplasm bound to it via unknown methods."

"Ugh, if that is true," Jack grimaced. "But wait? It ate the cookies," Jack looked mournful again. "Didn't even leave a crumb for me."

"Those cookies wouldn't have been safe for you to eat anyway," Maddie said. They might not have been safe for Phantom's unwitting host.

"No safety never killed anyone," Jack grumbled but scribbled the observation down, along with some random ideas that made no sense to anyone not inside his head. "Imagine if we'd never struck this deal. We'd never have figured any of this out."

"And Phantom's poor victim would still be suffering." Part of Maddie hoped she was wrong, because if the overshadowing hypothesis was true? Unwittingly, she recalled every battle against dangerous ectoplasmic monsters. If she was right, every time she'd shot Phantom…she'd hit a child.

She hoped, for once, a ghost had a better nature than she thought it did.

"Hah, I've got an idea. Instead of a ghost catcher, how about this to save Phantom's prisoner," Jack showed off a new blueprint—well, a mis-mash of two old blueprints. "The Fenton Ghost-Separator shield. Separates all ghosts from their hosts."

Maddie smiled wearily, "That's wonderful honey." She kissed him on the cheek. "Now we just need some undetectable way to activate it, so Phantom can't flee until it's too late."

"A better ghost-trap? No two people better at building one."

* * *

The second time they met Phantom, Danny and Jazz were both with them in the kitchen. Phantom held out one hand, pinkie extended, "I want a pinkie promise, from both of you. No more traps. No betrayal, no literal or figurative attempts to stab me in the back."

"A pinkie promise?" Maddie asked.

"You always said you never break a pinkie promise," Danny pointed out.

Maddie stared at her children, then at Phantom's extended finger. She looked straight into those glowing green eyes. Was a child staring back? Had Phantom somehow gotten its faith in the promise from its enslaved host. Her gut twisted, but she wrapped her pinkie around Phantom's and never broke its gaze. "No more betrayal. No literal or figurative attempts to stab you in the back. No traps. Pinkie promise."

After Jack did the same, Danny left them to go hang out with his friends. Unfortunately, Jazz joined them in the lab. Her presence would make this harder, but some things were worth breaking promises—like freeing imprisoned people.

"So…how long have you overshadowed your host?" she asked.

At the word 'Overshadow,' Jack's shield activated, sweeping over everyone in a wave of glowing blue. All three humans remained unharmed. Phantom, however, leapt into the air and flew toward the shield now blocking the lab door.

It let the ghost through.

"…So it's not overshadowing," Jack said, stunned.

"You said no traps," Phantom and Jazz shouted simultaneously. "You broke a pinkie promise," Phantom sounded almost wounded about that.

"For the sake of a trapped soul, yes," Maddie said. "Your uncannily human anatomy…we thought you had enslaved a host. A child."

"You thought I was overshadowing someone?" Phantom asked.

"It was a viable hypothesis."

Phantom landed and passed through the shield again. Nothing. "That's all the shield does? Prevent overshadowing." The ghost asked as it moved in and out of the barrier, head cocked like it was listening for something else. "Yeah, just prevents overshadowing." It hovered just outside the shield and glared at them. "You realize this little trap broke our deal."

Jack looked crestfallen, but Maddie stood stern and stubborn, "To free a trapped soul, even if the overshadowing was only a hypothesis, was worth it. Doing right is more important than being right."

The rigid posture left the ghost slumped in mid-air. "Damn. Fine. I get it. Fine. Run your tests. Prove to yourselves I'm not overshadowing anyone or anything equally creepy." And the ghost headed for the table.

Maddie snapped herself out of her surprise first. She'd been prepared for everything. To seize the ghost as it fled. To purge the ghost from a human body. To have a preserved corpse flop down in their lab. Even to have the desperate ghost seize a hostage. She'd had plans for every possibility…except what actually happened. "Only the ghost's heroic obsession. It doesn't mean anything," she muttered quietly and followed.

"Aww, you think I'm a hero?" Phantom smirked obnoxiously. Obviously she hadn't been quiet enough.

Maddie ignored that. "If you're not the product of some long-term overshadowing—"

"I'm pretty sure a ghost overshadowing a person can't overshadow someone else," Phantom said. "Or duplicate. How would that even work?"

"Then are you a ghost-corpse?" Jack asked.

"What?"

"A cadaver, somehow infused with ectoplasm via unknown experimental process," Maddie explained. If that were true, it made the whole existence of 'Phan girls' a thousand times creepier but the mere rumor of the truth should be enough to turn them away.

"A body? A corpse? Dude…you think I'm a ghost bound to my own corpse? Eww." Phantom pulled a disgusted face. "No."

"But how else is it possible?" Maddie asked. "Living tissue and ectoplasm are beyond incompatible. If they weren't, Jack and I would practically be ghost-human hybrids by now, even with the hazmat suits."

Phantom's expression twitched like it was at war with itself. Finally, his head hit the table like he wanted to phase through it. "You're the fancy scientists with the fancy degrees, you figure it out."

Maddie set up an old invention from after the first ghost invasion, specifically to detect overshadowing—they probably should have started with that. Her husband came up with another crazy hypothesis.

"Can a ghost and a human have sex? Is that how you were created?"

"What?" Phantom shot upright. It's expression mirrored Jazz's when discussing her supposed romantic relationship with the ghost.

Jazz fell over, laughing hysterically. The ghost glared at her, "This is not funny. Stop laughing."

"Hey, they've already talked about 'our relationship.' Your turn for the embarrassing, brain-bleaching questions."

Maddie narrowed her eyes while Jack looked confused. "So, who is your ghostly father? Or was your mother the ghost?"

"I think it would be the father," Maddie said absently. "I can't see a dead mother giving live birth."

"Can we please stop talking about this," Phantom phased through the table like a turtle withdrawing into its shell.

"Is it the Wisconsin Ghost?" Jack asked.

Phantom's jaw dropped and it out of the table. "No. No, flames above, below and between _no_. And thank everything he's not." Phantom shuddered. "I was _not_ born this way." It waved its hands to its glowing form, "I died just like any other ghost except…"

"Except what?" Maddie asked.

Phantom remained silent. Jack and Maddie continued testing and scanning, all of which stubbornly came up negative for any overshadowing or other evidence of the ghost controlling a living subject. The conclusion should have been reassuring, but Maddie wasn't satisfied. In a case of potential enslavement, better guilty until proven innocent than the reverse.

"Can we take an ectoplasmic sample," Jack narrowed the space between his fingers. "Just a little. It'll be like the doctor's office."

"I wasn't thrilled with that either," Phantom said.

"It would be the best proof to negate our overshadowing hypothesis," Maddie cajoled.

Phantom snatched the syringe from Jack's hand and gave it to their daughter. "She does it."

Jazz carefully took the needle. "Okay, make a fist." With a quick poke, she pressed the needle-tip into a bulging green vein and filled the tiny vial.

"So, if it's not overshadowing, how did you get like this? Your hair samples have keratin in them. That's living tissue." Jack asked.

"Accident," Phantom said, staring at the needle. "Electricity. Shocked. But," it glanced at their ghost portal, "There was a portal there too. Opened just as I was dying. Couldn't tell you how that happened—"

Maddie recalled many less than scientific articles and stories, talking about a life sacrifice needed to open a portal between the living and the dead. Thankfully, with modern science, they hadn't needed to take such barbaric methods into consideration.

"—CPR actually worked. I woke back up. Painfully, but—"

"Was there…a body, left? After the accident?" Maddie asked.

"Uh, this body," he waved his free hand around his own. Jazz withdrew the needle and handed the sample to Maddie. Was Phantom's story evidence for the cadaver hypothesis? This ectoplasmic sample, directly from the body, would reveal the truth if anything could.

"Not overshadowing," Jack concluded after staring into the microscope. Maddie looked at the ectoplasm herself, just to confirm. But no, the sample was strange in so many ways (and oddly familiar) but definitely not a result of overshadowing—short or long-term. That was a relief. Maddie had not been shooting at some innocent kid trapped by a ghost.

As the negatives and denials piled up, Phantom asked, "Satisfied?" In such a sarcastic tone that Maddie wanted to ground him.

"That you're not doing something even more horribly evil than normal?" Reluctantly she admitted. "Yes. There's no sign of overshadowing from a closer perspective and an overshadowing ghost normally overlays itself over the host's brain—"

"—wow, and that's way creepier than I ever wanted to know," said Phantom.

"Yes, doing ghostly things is creepy. But you don't currently appear to have any mental control over a living creature or harming a living creature via your existence."

"Thank you."

"But you're still a ghost."

Phantom floated away, "And you're still promise-breakers. I can't trust that you won't do something much worse because some screwy idea jumped in your heads and you decided begging was better than asking."

"What?"

Phantom's expression was completely emotionless. "You chose to beg forgiveness instead of asking permission. Well begging doesn't always work. You broke the deal. We're done." It turned intangible and dove beneath their floor before either Jack or Maddie could move.

Jasmine's face fell. "Why didn't you use the scanner first, at least?" The Fentons didn't answer. "Never mind. I suppose you still have data to go through." She walked wearily up the stairs.

"Why did it…?" Jack motioned to where the ghost had been a moment ago.

Their daughter paused at the threshold. "Well, I don't have my PhD yet, but I would hypothesize _he_ is tired of being treated like a non-person."

She left.

* * *

A thousand futures spanned Clockwork's vision.

 _An aged Danny Fenton, surrounded by family as his breathing slowed. "Go-ing...ghos..."_

 _"Dad, you have no idea what it's like!"_

 _"Awww, she's got your eyes," Cooed Tucker. "And your powers...oh shi-"_

 _"My little boy, grown up to be a ghost hunter after all," Jack said. "I'm so prou-"_

A face of indescribable horror interrupted them. A voice that would have made Pariah Dark cringe spoke. "Time flees Keeper." A pair of appendages like no living or ghostly being's reached from the Rift into the Ghost Zone. Widening it. No other being native to this realm could have laid eyes upon the features which stared back from Beyond. Not without madness consuming them. None but Clockwork, who's own powers had broken and healed him countless times over the millennia.

Hundreds of futures died each second Clockwork fought to seal the Rift. Each moment dying before it could be born. Never to be realized. Futures dwindling.

Down to one.

 _Inevitable._

But the Being before him and all those like IT destroyed futures they touched. Created not even a horrible future. Only a terrible nothingness of unending abyss.

Between a future, even a terrible one, and no future at all…Clockwork stayed. He fought. He Closed the Rift. "I'm sorry Danny."

* * *

In the bowels of his fortress, a thermos cracked and broke.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you guys so much for your comments, they're all Christmas presents to me! You've helped me make this story so much better than what I wrote alone (even if it's going to take a little longer to finish). Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following!

Merry Christmas everyone!

 **Chapter 4: Experiment**

"Damnit." Maddie swore.

"Well, at least the ghost wasn't enslaving someone," Jack consoled.

"I was so sure," Maddie said, pacing with agitation, "All the evidence fit...It's emotional sophistication. The combination of ectoplasmic and human traits. Even the stability of the body. It's _humanity_."

Jack tinkered with the overshadowing shield, already looking to integrate it with the rest of their security. "But Mads, the world doesn't make sense."

"It does when we study it enough," She picked up the ectoplasm sample. Only a few milliliters. They should have taken more. They should have done more to capture the ghost. Now they were back to square one. She squeezed a few drops into another test tube and ran it through the centrifuge. The machine whirled round and round, much like her agitated thoughts.

"At least there wasn't an enslaved kid."

"That's true." At least she hadn't been shooting at a child. "We need to study more about ghostly overshadowing. We don't know enough."

The centrifuge slowed to a crawl and Maddie pulled out the sample, now clearly separated. With one eye-dropper, she sucked up the top layer and put that under one microscope. She did the same with a second eyedropper and a second microscope. "Lets see what we have here." The first microscope revealed garden-variety ectoplasm—the stuff any ghost would have. The second sample though? No amount of ghostly exposure, overshadowing or otherwise, could so merge human traits with ectoplasm. Not even the centrifuge had stripped the ghostly traits from such human looking cells. How tightly bound were they? "Do we have enough data to stand a better chance of capturing Phantom?" She asked. "The more we learn about it, the more questions we have."

"I'm sure we do. Heck, we've got the Fenton Destabilizer," He held up the machine, "I found it looking for the Fenton Ghost Catcher. Let's run the sample through this baby."

"We must be conservative with it," Maddie held up what remained of Phantom's ectoplasm. Her first test had made a noticeable dent in the precious liquid. "We only have enough sample for two, maybe three more tests."

"Exactly, and this hunk of metal can calibrate the one right frequency we need to destabilize that hunk of weird ghost-human. What better way to catch Phantom?"

Maddie smiled, "Thank you Jack," she took another drop from the sample and ran a current through it.

Finding the right current to destabilize ectoplasm was always tricky. Each ghost was unique; ergo the frequency to destabilize their flesh was unique. Weaponizing it was even more of a pain. The uniqueness of the currents made any general-style gun unfeasible. The only thing a destabilization ray would be good for was targeting a specific ghost while doing no harm to anything else, even other ghosts.

For the first time such a weapon might be exactly what they needed. Phantom had always been able to take an ectoplasmic blast well, but with such a weapon? Get the right frequency and the reaction was instantaneous: ectoplasm lost its form and transformed into sludge.

Phantom's sample, like the ghost himself, defied spectre baseline. Current after current did nothing to the unusually structured ectoplasm, though they ran the sample through every single frequency on file and then tried new ones in hopes of finding something to make it change.

Maddie glanced at the clock while Jack loaded yet another new current in hope that this was the one. It was nearly midnight. "It's well past dinner-time. At least let's stop for something to eat," Maddie said.

Her husband, normally the first to jump onto new things as soon as the old ones grew tedious—especially if that new thing was food—fixated on the machine. "There's something _here_ Mads, I know it." He waved his hands, unable to articulate whatever nebulous conclusion he had leapt to, but Maddie understood. No one could leap further to a conclusion than Jack. But sometimes…those crazy, wild, insane theories contained a kernel of truth.

"I'll get something to eat. Then I'll stay down here and watch the machine while you do the same."

"Thanks Mads."

They ate in shifts, while Phantom's ectoplasm remained as stubborn as the ghost itself. They had gone through all frequencies on file and all variations. Even the new ones weren't panning out…

The sample trembled beneath the latest frequency. A precursor to destabilization. Both ghost hunters focused on it, intense as hunting cats.

Green turned red.

Maddie was the first to break the silence. "That's…new." She stared at it a moment more, but nothing else happened.

"Maybe we finally separated ectoplasm from…flesh" said Jack hesitantly, already preparing another slide.

"Let's see what we have here." Maddie put the sample beneath the microscope.

"Blood," Jack whispered.

Beneath the microscopic lens the façade of blood was pierced. She saw red blood cells in a plasma solution, but the ectoplasmic elements hadn't been purged from the sample. They stubbornly clung to the prominent human elements. Destabilization had simply muted their presence. Maddie stared at almost completely human cells, with only a background ectoplasmic contamination.

"There are still ectoplasmic elements here," Maddie said.

"What? Let me see," Jack asked. She handed the microscope over to him. "I'll be darned, well if this isn't proof that there is some human in there, I don't know what could be. I wonder if he could switch too?"

"What?" Maddie stared at her husband.

"Phantom. His ectoplasm switched to blood, could he switch—"

"—And disguise himself as human?" Maddie finished. It wouldn't be a surface disguise like a shape-shifter either. Not when it took a microscope and a careful eye to see the ghostly traits beneath the blood. If Phantom really did possess such an ability, he would be able to pass as human even to their finely-calibrated detectors… "How many times," she whispered, "Does he vanish from our detectors? Or the GIW. He gets out of sight…"

"Yeah, we thought he could teleport back to the ghost zone," said Jack.

But he hadn't gone to the ghost zone. He had gone human instead. That was how he could appear and disappear so quickly. And being around humans so much more would reinforce human traits. It all made so much sense—

"Hold on," Maddie said, half to herself as well as her husband. "My other hypothesis made so much sense too, but that one was wrong in the end, and it cost us. We can't afford to jump to conclusions without validating evidence, a lot of validating evidence. Let us…let us now assume this hypothesis is wrong. What evidence is there to disprove it?"

Jack scratched his stubble. "I…have no idea how Phantom could be human and ghost."

"Yes," Maddie agreed. "That should be…impossible." As impossible as anything could possibly be. The ectoplasmic elements in the blood. The human elements in the ectoplasm. She double-checked the blood sample. If Jack's old hypothesis about Phantom being a corpse was right…but no. The red blood cells. "They're living," she said.

"Really? So he's not a corpse?" Jack took another look. "Hey, you're right."

"That…" Maddie trailed off, because even impossible couldn't describe the infeasibility of combining two polar opposites. They would destroy each other before they merged. She and Jack had proof of that from a hundred and one different experiments and a thousand more done by those before and after them. It was why hazmat suits and safety were such necessities to protect living flesh from ectoplasm. Even notoriously safety-lax Jack never experimented on ectoplasm without a hazmat suit and had gone out of his way to make suits for everyone in the family. "What is he? Living traits? Ghostly traits?" She paced alongside the benches again. "This is insane." And yet the microscope showed living red blood cells. That was not a sample from a corpse. Had the ectoplasm somehow…resurrected the blood cells? Because that makes so much sense, she thought sarcastically—the stuff of death giving life to dead flesh.

"Hey Mads." Uncertainty colored Jack's voice. "I _swear_ I've seen a sample like this before. I don't remember where but…its familiar."

Maddie looked again at the sample, feeling like a hammer head shark circling around a magnet it could sense. Yet it could not see the magnet beneath the sand. It could only search this blank space, circling, circling. Knowing, yet not seeing.

Not quite grasping.

* * *

Flaming white hair haloed bared fangs. "You thought that stupid little thermos could hold me?" A glowing, clawed hand struck a teenage face.

Danny couldn't answer. He barely shielded in time. His barrier shattered beneath Dan's blow. The force slammed him through the 'Welcome to Amity' sign just outside town. Then he hit dirt. Ears ringing, breath driven out of him, Danny still held out his arm and sprayed ectoplasmic energy toward the incoming enemy.

It wasn't enough. Dan didn't even seem to notice the attack. He shoved his face in Danny's until they were nose-to-nose. That was all Danny could focus his dimming vision on. "Like I told you before." *Crack* "I'm you." *Whump* "I'm inevitable." *Crunch*. Danny's head flopped to the side. He could see Amity. Still standing. Good thing they weren't fighting in the city.

"You haven't changed the future." A pair of clawed hands gripped Danny's throat like vices and hauled him up. "You've just prolonged the suffering." His own hands automatically reached to fight the grip, but slid off as the warped ghost strangled the breath from him. He clung weakly to their shared symbol on his future self's chest.

His hands lit up.

Ice couldn't explode, but shoving so much power in so little space sent a thousand razor shards bristling toward Dan. The full-ghost reeled away. Danny slipped out of that terrible grip like an eel, taking a desperately needed breath. He blinked away black spots from his vision, but two of those shapes stubbornly stayed—no, three—rising behind his future self. Then Dan struck him again. "You call that a blast." A clawed hand, glowing with ectoplasmic energy, slammed into his chest. "Let me teach you properly."

Dan lit Danny's world with pain.

Agony. It centered on his chest like a bomb. It spread out like fire, burning into every cell of his body instantly. Danny couldn't see. Couldn't hear. Couldn't sense anything but the pain. It tore through his focus. Took his breath. Took his senses. Every scrap of hard-won grit shredded. Danny couldn't fight. Couldn't get up. He could only curl in on himself, trying to shield the wound. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop _makeitstop…_

Dan smirked at his younger self, lying at his feet. That smirk paused when he became aware of the others. But only for a moment. He gave each weapon a lazy, arrogant stare before lifting his eyes toward the wielders. "You're just shooting your precious Danny," he laughed.

Tucker raised two strange glove-like contraptions on his hands, "You're not my friend." He fired.

Jazz raised a new, gleaming, ecto-bazooka. "You're not my brother." She fired.

Sam raised a pair of ecto-pistols. "You're not Danny."

Dan's smile faltered.

She fired.

Struck by so many destabilization rays, the unstabilized mix of Danny's ghost half and Vlad's ghost half couldn't take it. Dan's flesh churned as though ectoplasm was boiling beneath his skin. Ectoplasmic steam leeched from his body, clouding the air. Then the warped ghost faded, ignored. Jazz, Sam and Tucker rushed to their fallen friend. "Oh my god," Tucker said in a pale voice.

Dan had burned a hole straight through his younger self's chest. A hole big enough to fit a fist in. Deep enough Tucker could see grass poking through from the other side. Ectoplasm should have gushed everywhere, but the charred edges of the wound closed the veins and arteries, keeping his friend from bleeding to death. The smell…Tucker's stomach twisted. The smell was like cooked meat. Sam and her veganism never looked so attractive. Danny was so still, so limp. Tucker placed two shaky fingers against his friend's throat. After a moment, his shoulders slumped.

"Alive," Tucker rasped. His pulse was slow and feeble, but there. "This is why I hate hospitals."

Jazz and Sam let out relieved breaths. "Can you…?" Jazz asked, motioning to the wound.

Tucker gaped incredulously, "At that? Where would I start? This doesn't need needle and thread it needs…" he trailed off and peered closer at the wound. "Oh shit."

"What is it?" Sam and Jazz leaned closer.

Tucker pointed to a few beads of icy-blue liquid oozing out charred-black flesh. "That glowing blue stuff. It's not blood or ectoplasm."

"That's his core," Jazz whispered. "Core fluid. It's bleeding." All three of them fell silent for one, dreadful moment.

Sam broke the silence first. "Frostbite. He has the knowledge. The technology. If anyone…" Sam swallowed. "If anyone can help him." Sam moved to sit behind Danny's head and carefully lifted him up.

"We need my car." Jazz yanked out her keys. "It has stuff in it. I'll just…help him. Help him however you can guys." She took off sprinting toward town.

Tucker pulled out all the medical supplies he could. It wasn't enough. Nowhere near what his dying friend needed. But anything that could hold the reaper off a little more. He and Sam worked in silence. They had been doing this for so long he didn't need to ask Sam to place her fingers here or lift Danny enough to wrap a bandage around his back.

Jazz's car grumbled over the grass, headlights cutting through the darkness and highlighting the glint of ectoplasm already seeping into the bandages. The charring hadn't stopped the bleeding, only slowed it. "Is he…"

"Still hanging in there," Tucker said, "But Jazz, Sam, the Far Frozen's way too far…It would take too long. He doesn't have that time."

"Then there's no time to waste," said Sam, "Tucker, get his legs. Let's go."

"Go where?" Tucker asked.

"To get the spectre speedster," said Jazz, from the driver's seat.

"Isn't that—oh hell no! They tried to lock him up a few days ago. Again."

"He's dying." Sam hauled him into the car. "Any plan that helps him not die has my vote. What're you thinking Jazz?" Sam asked.

"Getting him to the closest help there is."

"You can't mean—"

"I'll be there with him. You and Sam swipe the Spectre Speedster and take off for the Far Frozen. Get Frostbite's help."

"But Danny—"

"I won't let anything happen to him," Jazz said fiercely. "He's my brother. No matter what. But…there's no one else." She turned on the car. "Tucker, keep doing what you can. Sam, keep him steady."

Tucker stared at the precious drops of core fluid staining his bandages. "Drive like a maniac Jazz. Drive like your dad would never dare."

Tires screamed as Jazz did just that. They tore through the grass, flew through red-lights, barely scraping past night traffic. Jazz didn't touch the break pad once. They zoomed through Amity and to her house in record time.

Jazz had never felt slower in her life.

* * *

"Honey? Have you seen my new ecto-bazooka? The one I'd programed with the Fenton Destabilizer?" Jack asked from the bottom of the lab stairs. Darn it, just when he'd finished the thing.

"It's wherever the Fenton Destabilizer is," Maddie said from the back of the lab. "I can't find that either." Slowly she picked her way through the jungle of old, discarded invention parts.

"Darn ghosts. Probably snuck in here and stole them. Just like my thermos."

"Phantom might have done it." Maddie said. "If…he can hide an ectoplasm signature so thoroughly that not even our finest detectors can find it, our security might not catch him."

Jack considered this. "But our regular security can still stop a ghost." He banged his fist on the walls, "And it's phase proof now. Otherwise those ectoplasmic slime-balls would be all over our lab tearing everything apart every night. Even a human would need all our super-secret codes." He smiled brightly. "And those are Fenton Family secrets."

The lab door burst open. Jazz staggered in. Jack looked up. Oh good, she wasn't off to Harvard or whatever in the days they'd been frantically studying and inventing. Glowing liquid dripped on the floor. Jack frowned. That should not be happening. Right? His daughter staggered beneath the weight of a second person. "Dad. Help me."

The first word snapped Jack out of his daze and he grabbed the other arm—white gloved, black clad. A head of white hair hung limply between them. Phantom. This was Phantom. Here, somehow, though he'd vowed not to come back.

The ectoplasm was coming from Phantom. Too much ectoplasm. A dribble slid from his lips down to his chin. Bandages wrapped around his chest were starting to turn a mix of green and strange, glowing blue. Oddly, instead of fading like a ghost, Phantom still felt solid. Solid despite the ectoplasm mixing with something eerily cold, like liquid nitrogen.

His daughter looked him in the eye. Desperate.

"You'll help him, right?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Oh my god guys, thank you so much! Wow! Everyone really loved that plot twist. Okay, you're wait is over. Time to finally see what happens next!

Lydia 2200: Glad you liked the latest chapter! Don't feel bad about not updating. Fanfiction writing is a hobby. You write as you feel like it. Besides, even the pros find keeping to a schedule hard 😉 Thanks for the review and a belated happy holidays to you too!

 **Chapter 5: Analysis**

"Jazzikins."

"He risked his existence to save the town…again. Is a little help too much to ask?"

Jack deflated. "Not for you Jazzikins."

Between the two of them, they hauled Phantom down the stairs. With more care than people thought him capable of, Jack knelt and picked the gho—Phantom—up. The young ghost (or young-looking ghost) wasn't heavy, though not many people were to Jack. He stopped at the table and gently set Phantom on it. Briefly, he thought he saw Danny's friends dart in too.

"No running in the lab," Maddie said absently. Most of her attention was on Phantom as she fought not to break her own rule. At last, another chance.

A whine echoed in the lab, but Jazz was pulling out medical supplies from a backpack. "He needs fresh bandages," she said. "But…he also needs more. Mom. Dad. He was hit in the core."

"What?" Jack glanced down at the ghost, as though expecting him to melt into sludge that instant. Which, according to all their science, he should have been doing. A ghost hit in the core was like hitting a human in the heart.

"The very edge," Jazz explained, stripping off the old bandages, "The blast just grazed the edge of his core but…"

Beneath the ectoplasm-soaked strips of cloth was a pit burned in the flesh of Phantom's chest. Charred edges seeped with green as the human-like veins and arteries sputtered more ectoplasm in a futile attempt at mimicking life. Or maybe not mimicking. Other burn marks gouged deep trenches in his muscle, but they were less obvious and clearly less vital. Beyond the fresh injuries lay evidence of older ones. Many were raw and pink, possibly still painful.

He looked so young.

Amid the mess oozed drops of a colder liquid. "The core," Jack whispered.

"Oh honey," Maddie kept her voice soft and sympathetic. "I don't think he's going to make it."

Jazz glowered at them. "He's not some stray I brought home he's…" she stopped. "Please, you're the best inventors ever. You have to have something. Something to keep him alive a little longer."

Did Jazz know Phantom, in his human form? Was that why she was so invested in keeping him alive. Was alive even the right term for a ghost? Maddie looked down at the deathly pale, limp body. Would he, could he, die?

"This might work," Jack pulled out a vial of glowing green goo from a clutter of similar inventions. "The ecto-dejecto. Never could get it to weaken a ghost, but it might strengthen one." He grabbed the glowing serum and a syringe, pressed the tip of the needle into a vein and squeezed the plunger. Phantom's head lolled to one side, eyes barely slits. "Didn't…okay…nee'les," he slurred.

"Easy, easy, save your strength…" Jazz cut herself off, but Phantom went limp again. Jazz pressed fingers to his throat, waiting a moment before announcing, "Just passed out."

The sight of him lying so limp, so helpless, was so wrong. It made her guts twist up. An effect no ghost should have on her guts.

Why was a specimen having such an effect on her? A ghost? Or a ghost-human, at best. One session of quasi-peaceful semi-cooperation couldn't illicit this level of attachment. And even if it had, the second session should have destroyed that. Before their tense truce, they'd shot each other like Hatfields and McCoys.

Another piece of the puzzle that was Phantom. She had enough pieces to at least see what the picture was, but couldn't for the life of her figure out how each piece fit with any of the others. Her hands clenched into fists. Such a vexing conundrum.

Her daughter gave her a wary look. "Will that work?"

"Sure it will," said Jack. "I invented it myself."

Understanding her daughter's mind at last, Maddie added, "And I have tested it. If anything will work, that should." She didn't add that she'd tried to get it to work correctly—to destroy ghosts. Jazz would take no comfort in that. "Why are you so…invested in Phantom?" she asked.

Jazz said nothing.

Phantom's chest rose and fell in short, jerky spurts. It could not have been a conscious motion. The mix of an instinctive living trait on a ghost was unnerving. Slowly, ectoplasm filled the wound. Not the substance Phantom bled. This had a tougher, more gelatinous appearance and made a thin film over the wound. Jazz looked closer, "It's working? Will he be alright?"

"We would have to run more tests…just to be sure," Maddie said.

Jazz's open suspicion was disconcerting. There was something between her daughter and Phantom. Their relationship would handily, terrifyingly explain Jazz's medical skills. That it wasn't romantic—Jazz couldn't have faked her earlier reactions—wasn't the relief it should have been. Maddie glanced between her daughter's worried gaze and the unconscious ghost. Yet another piece of the puzzle. Along with a mysterious stable portal—if Phantom wasn't lying—stabilized by his death. Here was a ghost and a human and a contradiction of everything they knew, and she couldn't see how it all fit together, let alone how to save him.

The ghost turned his head to the side and heaved, spraying ectoplasm and bits of bitter cold on the table and down to the floor. Jazz paled. "What's wrong with him? I thought the ecto-dejecto helped?"

"We would need to experiment to find out." Maddie said with calm she didn't feel.

"Just scans. He can't take any other kind of 'experimentation'," Jazz added bitterly. And she looked ready to physically assault them if they didn't stick with scans.

"Aww, but we've already done scans," Jack moaned.

"He's. Dying." Jazz hissed.

"Scans it is." Jack agreed easily. Of course, if Phantom happened to die and leave behind _remains_ , they could experiment to their heart's content. The thought of Phantom's remains, of a corpse, chilled Jack so horribly he froze.

"Jack?" He shared a glance with his wife and could see a similar realization in her. The pair readied their machines with urgency they didn't know the source of.

Scans quickly revealed the problem. "He's still bleeding internally, and from the core."

"I thought your ecto dejecto could fix a destabilized core?" Jazz hissed.

The Drs. Fentons shared a look. Now where had she learned that? "We've never tested that sweetie," said Maddie. "Ghost cores can be…finicky things. Honey, we're ghost hunters, we don't build many things to _help_ ghosts. If this doesn't work…"

"You don't understand," Jazz was panicking now. "He has to. He has to. Just…we need a little more time. Please. Help him. Save him."

Phantom's harsh coughing echoed in the eerily silent lab. Maddie was the first to ask, "Honey, is there something you want to tell us?"

She never saw her daughter more wracked with horrible indecision.

"Yes."

The word was so feeble they barely heard it, especially followed by another round of 'trying to throw up your lungs' coughing. Fighting to get his breath back, Phantom repeated, in a slightly stronger voice, "Yes."

"Danny," Jazz whispered.

Phantom looked awful. Ectoplasm splattered everywhere, more dripped from his mouth and worst of all, the core fluid still slipped out. The ecto-dejecto kept him from bleeding out in the chest, but it wasn't stopping his internal bleeding fast enough. Instead of saving him, their invention was only prolonging the process. Phantom's face, pale from lack of—ectoplasm? Blood? She didn't know the right word—was painful in its familiarity. Like the visual puzzle with the two women. Stare at it one way and you see an old woman, lines becoming a bulging nose and wrinkled flesh. Flip it the opposite way and those same lines became waves of hair and smooth lips of a young woman.

Stare at Phantom one way and see a ghost, white hair and ectoplasm-colored eyes and glowing skin. Stare at him another way and…

And…

"They're coming. They've gone to the Far Frozen and they're coming back with help," Jazz insisted.

Phantom paused, thinking, then shook his head. "Dunno why…this was so hard. Shoulda…just…done this…first place." A white ring appeared around his waist. As the ghost concentrated, the ring split apart.

* * *

Tucker drove like even more of a maniac than Jazz. Outside the speedster the Ghost Zone was a green and purple blur as they passed. Sam, at the weapon controls, shielded and blasted anything in their way. They brute-force charged through the ghost zone as fast as the specter speedster could manage. It was slow. Far too slow. Teleporting would be too slow while their friend was back there, bleeding to death on his parents' dissection table.

"There."

The peaks of the Far Frozen's Frostfang mountains were the first things they saw. Jagged white blades against deep purple. Fearlessly, wildly, they flew among the sharp cliffs of ice and stone, the wind of their passage whipping the faces of the guards. Tucker couldn't bring himself to touch the breaks and Sam blasted anything that could stop them until Frostbite's palace appeared in their sights. Only then, did Tucker stop.

As soon as the door was open, Tucker screamed: "Doctor!"

"Danny's fading." Sam added. 'Dying' didn't quite have the same meaning in the ghost zone as it did among the living.

Their shouts blended together but Frostbite was able to puzzle it out. "In here," he commanded, opening a door to another vehicle. This craft bore as much resemblance to the Fenton invention they had swiped as the first Ford car did to a Ferrari. Sam and Tucker gladly leapt in. Frostbite himself took the controls and less than a minute later, two of the Far Frozen's best healers joined them, bags packed. Off they shot, at least twice as fast as Sam and Tucker had managed in the Specter Speedster.

Would it be enough?

"What is the Great One's condition?" asked one of the healers.

"Core bleeding. Big hole in his chest." Tucker gestured with his hands, trying to describe the enormity of it with flailing words and fingers.

Sam could still see it, even when she looked away from Tucker. Without the weapons' system, she had nothing to tear her mind away from that horrible moment—Dan's claws digging into their shared symbol, an explosion of green—over and over again. She hadn't even realized how _bad_ it was, not until after the fight. Not until she'd gotten closer and seen the great gaping pit in his chest. How many precious seconds had she wasted talking to that monster while her boyfriend bled out?

They'd all talked about this. Heroism's reality. After the Ghost King's tyranny, the first time Danny had nearly died. They'd made plans. Separately, then together. What would happen if the worst happened? They'd stewed. Then they'd talked. About how heroes died young and didn't leave a pretty corpse behind.

But during all those talks, Danny had been warm and alive beside her.

"We will do everything we can," one of the healers said. She held out a box carved of ice, difficult to see through but Sam thought she saw blue liquid. Or plasma. "Everything."

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"What may be needed, if the Great One's condition is so dire."

Sam reminded herself that no ghosts held Danny in such high esteem as the people of the Far Frozen. She reminded herself that Tucker still drooled over their technology with every visit. She reminded herself that they were doing everything they could, that Danny had already been through so many close calls and this was just another one…

But Sam had never been an optimist.

The hues of the ghost zone merged together outside the windows. Sam had nothing else to think about as time stretched on.

She preferred the blasting.

* * *

The white ring split into two in faltering, jerky stops, like Phantom's breath. As they stuttered up and down his form, the hazmat suit transformed into blue and white cloth. The gloves, when the rings trembled over them, vanished, leaving pale bare hands. The cloth became recognizable as a white shirt and jeans. Maddie held her breath; just as they suspected, Phantom was turning human. But what for? She couldn't imagine such a wound on a human. It might even…

Yet the ghost strained harder than any ghost she'd ever seen, teeth gritted, tendons jutting with the concentration it took to force the rings up past his neck, past his tight jaw. Over his head. Finally, the white rings collapsed. He did the same, back on the table.

All the pieces came together.

The ghost detectors going off around him. The strange disappearances and failing grades. The portal. Oh, the portal. In her mind's eye, Maddie could picture it, could hear the ghost of a scream…and immediately turned her thoughts away. Some things, even for a scientist who studied the dead, were too horrible to contemplate. It was her worst nightmare, worse even than running into the ghost of her mother or her father—a hollow shell in the guise of one once loved. But instead of an ancestor, a descendent. A child. No. A ghost with any connection to their own son was too much to bear. They hadn't wanted to think, _she_ hadn't wanted to think, that the accident had on some level made him inhuman.

She had shot him. Her baby.

"Danny," Jack said in a wounded voice. He stumbled toward the table where their son lay. Their son surrounded by blood the ectoplasm had become. "Danny. Danno. Hang on." He turned to her, gasping like it was he who had a gaping pit in his chest. Maddie felt the same, an echo of the agony her son had endured. "Mads…we need to…"

She was already scrambling for the medical supplies.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. Danny's horrible, wrenching coughs stopped, and Maddie abandoned every tube and suture to do compressions. "Come on sweetie. Danny. Breathe. Come on. Jazz, call an ambulance. Now."

Jazz ran to do so.

Fourteen, fifteen. Breath. One. Two. Three… "Jack. Ecto-dejecto. Could it work? On him now?"

Her husband siphoned the last of the ecto-dejecto into a syringe and injected the precious few milliliters into their son. "Come on Danno. Please. _Please_." He didn't move. Maddie kept up the compressions.

"Beside the first aid kit, the defibrillator."

Jack shoved aside inventions, not caring as they smashed and clattered to the floor. He ripped open the door with the lightning bolt symbol and snatched the dusty contraption inside. Maddie only had to pause for the briefest moments as Jack grabbed a scalpel and sliced through their son's shirt, baring his chest. The ectoplasm was still green and foreign against human flesh. But it was keeping her baby alive. "I…I didn't pay attention to the safety class," Jack said. "I don't know what to do." He held out the machine.

"Keep up the compressions," Maddie said. They switched places, Jack keeping Danny's heart pumping with his hands, Maddie placing the pads. "Clear." Once they weren't touching him, Maddie pressed the button.

Dzzzt.

Nothing.

Jazz rushed back in. "Help is coming."

"Oh good," said Jack.

Maddie tried the defibrillator again, but doubt was creeping in. Danny wasn't moving. Wasn't responding. He lay so pale on the table, the blood standing out so sharply. So much blood. How long had it been? How long would it take for an ambulance to get here? They were always too slow.

Darkness engulfed the lab as a speedster shot through the ghost portal and into their home. For a moment, she thought, but no, that was not the specter speedster. That was not their invention. Too large and done in white with a cameo pattern of icy blue. The doors opened and emerging from the vehicle were strange white-furred, yeti-like creatures. Ghosts. Jack was already putting his bulk between them and Danny, a literal meat shield. Maddie grabbed her pistol.

Jazz grabbed her gun arm. "It's okay. They're here to help."

Sam and Tucker followed the giant ghosts, lending a little credence to her words. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, even with the revelation that her son was Phantom. Ghosts fought Phantom. They were still the enemy. She stood between ghosts and her son. The one with ice surrounding the bones of one arm stepped forward, a paw raised. "Be at peace Maddie Fenton, we are here to save the Great One. Do you not want him saved?"

"How?" Jack asked desperately.

"Sire, his life is gone," another ghost reported, looking at a scanner.

Maddie and Jack turned back to their son, both putting fingers to his throat. No pulse. No breath. It was futile, but Jack continued the compressions, trying to bring back his son's heartbeat. "You're lying. You're ghosts. Ghosts lie."

The strange specters remained silent until even Jack's desperate attempts faltered.

"We cannot save his life," said the lead ghost, "But if we begin now, we may be able to save his spirit."

"Save his…" Jack trailed off.

Maddie knew what they were talking about. They thought to turn her son into a ghost. Her worst nightmare. Beyond her worst nightmare, because clearly, she hadn't even thought of one of her children becoming a ghost. Becoming the very thing they hunted.

"He would want that. Danny would," Jazz said. "We've talked about it." She turned to the giant ghost. "Come on Frostbite." She took one of his big paws in her hand and lead him closer.

Jack and Maddie stood frozen, staring at the ghosts, staring at their son. Maddie didn't move between this ectoplasmic monster and her Danny. Those piercing, pale eyes met hers, "Do you wish to lose him forever? Or does him as a ghost so disgust you that you would rather him dead?"

Had those words been steel, Maddie and Jack would have died. Maddie placed a hand to her chest, checking, however foolishly, that the pain she felt was somehow not physical. Never had she wanted to shoot someone before. Her daughter had to hold back her arm with both hands. "Don't. You. Dare." She snarled in a voice more like the beasts she faced than anything human. "I love…my son. I loved him."

She'd shot him. Her son. Who was Phantom and Danny both. Had been for years. Who had been hiding a part of him (half of him) from her for so long. A ghost. A human. She could not fathom, let alone explore the breadth and depth of the secret her Danny had revealed in those last precious moments of life.

The secret he had been afraid to tell her. Because they'd always said, if not in so many words—better a loved one dead than a ghost.

But that was before their son lay so still on one of their _dissection tables_. In that moment of weakness, as the full enormity of what they had done spread out before them like the depths of the Ghost Zone itself, Jack whispered, "No."

Maddie stood aside. " _Save him_."

* * *

Danny woke, blessedly pain free, to see Frostbite, his parents and his friends around him. He smiled, "Thanks guys," he raised a hand, "Didn't think I was going to make it—" he stopped and looked at his hand. "Oh."

The hand was bluish-tinted in a way his skin had never been before, and Danny dimly remembered changing back to human in front of his parents, trying to tell them before it was too late. He hovered toward a mirror, as easily and naturally as walking. A foreign face stared back.

He still mostly looked like himself. Or, his ghost self. Phantom. The only obvious difference was the skin color. An icy blue instead of either Danny's light skin or Phantom's slightly darker tone. Danny closed his eyes and concentrated on his human form, trying to will the white rings to appear again. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. He opened his eyes and stared at himself again. Maddie tried to find the words to explain to her dear little boy that he had...that he was now a ghost. She couldn't.

Jack couldn't either, though he opened and shut his mouth enough to try.

Finally, Danny turned back to his audience with a weak smile, "Guess I've gone ghost for good."

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh, ow, ow, ow I broke my own heart writing this. Oh, I killed my poor baby. I'm such a horrible person. This was not supposed to happen in the original draft of the story but then my mind turned down that dark road and I couldn't turn back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** : Thank you all again so much for your thoughtful and inspiring critiques. I just had to go back and revise this last chapter, not just to smooth things over but also to add some things I hadn't considered the first time in. Like Danny's ghostly enemy reactions!

My apologies for the Esperanto. I used free internet translation.

 **Chapter 6** **: Conclusion**

Maddie approached her son. The ghost. Her Danny's nose and eyes tinged ghostly blue and ectoplasm green. His words colored with an otherworldly echo. Not even when she saw him draw his last breath was Maddie so aware of Danny's death. Yet he was here, speaking, moving. Her son's spirit in…well, a spirit. A miracle. A nightmare. Some warped combination of the two. No, not warped, he was still her son. Even if his eyes glowed green instead of blue, he had to be her son. "Danny?" His right hand felt cool to hers. An ice core.

"Hi mom."

Her husband staggered to his other side. "Danno? Oh son, why didn't you tell us?"

"Does the phrase 'rip it apart molecule by molecule' ring any bells?" Jazz asked.

Maddie remembered a thousand and one such rants, too many about Phantom himself. No wonder Danny only confided in them on his death bed. What horrible parents they'd turned out to be. "I'm sorry we didn't see it before."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah man, how do you feel after…biting the big one?"

Danny's hand drifted down to his chest. A ghost's core beat in place of his heart. "I…I dunno." A weak smile. "I'm not suddenly uber-obsessed with going back to town and making sure no ghost touches it because it's _mine_."

"It would be okay if you did," Jazz said. "Lots of ghosts have obsessions."

Would their son inevitably become like every other ghost? Drowning in compulsion and obsession until he was a creature that wore her son's face? Maddie could see the same dawning horror on her husband's face. Thankfully, Danny's attention was on his friends. His back to them. But Jazz noticed. She glared.

"Why?" Jack asked. "Why be our lab rat? Why couldn't you just…tell us?"

Danny floated back like a human flopping on a chair, "Because I wanted you to accept all ghosts. Sure, I could have told you I was a half-ghost but then I'd be the 'not like other ghosts' exception to your ghost-hating rants."

He ducked his head, white hair falling to hide green eyes. "I did try. At first. To tell you about the portal thing, the first month or so. Harder than I thought. Every time I tried something came up—a phone call or Jazz would step in and…" he looked up at them again.

"Then I started doing the whole superhero gig." He scowled, "And Walker framed me as the villain…" They opened their mouths, but he kept talking, "It got harder to tell. After I was really accepted as a hero, I was afraid you'd try and stop me."

"We should've," Maddie snapped. "If you'd told us…"

"Or you might have died instead," Danny shouted.

"We still should have done something. Or known something," Jack said, "Were we so blind?"

Team Phantom said nothing.

"I kinda expected this to happen," Danny said. "Not the whole ghost thing. That's a shocker." He looked to the lead ghost in the room. "Thanks Frostbite."

"We are honored, Great One." The ghost, Frostbite, bowed.

"But the whole dying thing? Ever since Pariah Dark I knew I could go out and never come back. Made a video…just in case. It explains everything."

"How comforting," Maddie said.

More silence. Danny cleared his throat. "So…does this mean I need to move in with Tucker or Sam?"

Danny was engulfed in hugs from both his parents. "Oh Danno is that what's going on through your head?" Jack said, hugging his son tightly.

"Honey we would never—" Maddie began.

Reluctantly Danny went intangible and slid out of their hold. "You might have," he said calmly, "Because you didn't know any better."

"That's why you should have told us!"

Danny opened his mouth to retort, only to shut it. Deep breath. Count to ten. Now he could think. Stop the useless argument before it started. That was the last thing they needed, a shouting match.

"He's told us now," Jack said. "We know better now and whatever we would have done in the past…that's not going to happen anymore."

"Yeah, not anymore," Danny repeated.

The elder Fentons winced. "Let's just…go home."

"To the lab?" Danny asked darkly.

"Well, that's the only way out of the ghost zone," said Jack.

Maddie elbowed him, "Wherever you want. Just to talk." She glanced around. "Preferably in a temperate climate." The other ghost glanced at Danny. Something was exchanged in that look. The icy-armed ghost bowed again.

"You are ever welcome within our lands, Great One."

"Thank you," said Danny. They walked, or in the ghosts' case floated toward the cavern entrance. "Not that I can thank you enough for saving my l—well, existence."

"Of course. That is what the core donation is for—"

"Wait?" Danny froze, mid-tunnel, "A donated core? That's what fixed me? You merged my core with another _ghost's_!"

"Yes, Great One," Frostbite frowned at the horror in all of Team Phantom. "It is a common practice to donate a little of one's core, in case the worst should happen."

"Like…" Tucker spoke when Danny clearly couldn't, "Like a blood donation thing? In the world of the living?"

"Much like," a healer said.

"Oh," Danny looked faint. "So, I don't have…like…an entire other ghost's core merged with my own? I'm not gonna…"

All the Far Frozenlanders stopped. "I cannot imagine what horror would result from such a thing." One healer finally said.

"Did…have they..?" another healer motioned toward the elder Fentons.

"Oh no. No," Danny shook his head. In a lower voice, he said, "They weren't responsible for anything like that."

"And you're only responsible for ending it," Sam said. With a hand on his shoulder, she guided him to the Spectre Speedster.

There was one problem with the Spectre Speedster. "I don't think we're all going to fit in that," Tucker commented.

"Nonsense, its big enough for the whole Fenton Family."

"Not the extended version," said Danny, glancing at his friends.

"If you have need of transportation, my own speedster is available," Frostbite offered.

"No," Maddie snapped. She saw her son's expression and amended. "We'll manage. Everyone in."

"But there aren't enough seats—" Jazz said. Maddie pushed her in anyway.

"Ow, my head."

"Sorry."

"I'm so glad I can turn myself intangible."

"Stop bragging and turn some of us intangible too."

"Next time, you guys need to design a spectre speedster that can actually fit the Fenton Family," Jazz said, knees next to her chin.

"Next time? There will not be a next time. Anyone who dies before they've turned their hundredth birthday will be grounded for life." Maddie said.

"I'll drive." Jack snatched the keys.

"We're all gonna be grounded for life."

No one was grounded for life (or afterlife) on the way home. Not for the lack of trying. As Jack barreled his way through the ectoplasmic landscape, purple and green blurring together, he screamed. "Ghooosst!"

"Well duh, we're in the ghost—ugh!" Sam was yanked forward, along with everyone else who had a seat-belt, as Jack slammed his foot on the breaks. Danny flew through the windshield and nearly collided with Wulf. As both his parents pulled out ecto-guns he put himself between the lupine ghost and his parents.

"Hey, easy, it's just Wulf. He's helped me out. A lot." Danny turned back to his friend. "Saluton."

"Saluton mia amiko. Esta vera?" He leaned forward, sniffing. Jazz stopped her mother from raising her guns again and Sam did the same to Jack.

"Vera?" Danny asked, looking to Tucker, who was best at the language.

"Truth. He's asking what is true?"

"Danny Phantom fantomo?"

"He's asking if…if you're full ghost now," Tucker said.

"How does this spread so fast?" Danny muttered. "Jes."

Still in the Spectre Speedster, Maddie whispered, "That is…a good ghost?" She glanced between her son, his friends and what looked like a werewolf. A glowing black and green werewolf.

"You don't have to say good ghost like it's a foreign concept," Jazz grumbled.

"Kompatemo kaj gratuloj," Wulf said.

"Dankon," said Danny.

"What is he saying?" Jack asked.

"He says he's sorry about Danny's death but glad that Danny still exists," Tucker said. "Povas vi larmo fulmoklavo al Amity?"

"Jes." Massive claws sprang from one paw and both elder Fentons tensed, but the ghost tore a hole through the very fabric of the ghost zone, making a primitive portal between the two worlds. On the other side they could see Amity Park still cloaked in peaceful darkness.

As if her son hadn't died.

The ghost waved them through. "Gis Baldau."

"Dankon," Danny said.

Tucker frowned as the ghost loped off, "I wonder what he meant by that?"

Danny shrugged, "Dunno. Hey guys," he faced his parents, "If he stops by later on, please don't shoot him."

"Awww," Jack groaned.

"He's a good ghost."

"Okay, okay."

Once the Spectre Speedster pulled into their driveway, everyone piled out like clowns out of a car. Danny settled on the ground, forcing his ghostly tail to split into feet. Odd, though he'd seen it just the other day, how much he missed the crazy place.

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, they heard: "Fenton Security Activated," in Maddie's voice. Followed by Jack's recording yelling, "Ghooooost!" Ecto-guns emerged from the roof, the windows and even the Fentonworks sign to hurl a barrage of ecto-blasts at Danny.

"Danno!" Jack shouted.

But Danny had expected this the second he heard the automated voice. An ectoplasmic shield snapped into existence. The shots bounced harmlessly off, though he still winced. "What the hell?"

"You're a full ghost now. You…must have set off the house defenses," said Jazz.

"Someone turn it off," Sam shouted.

"I'm on it." Jack ran inside.

"That's okay," Tucker took out his PDA, "I'm faster."

With a whine, the system powered down. In the silence after, Maddie asked Tucker. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"Since you came up with the brilliant idea to experiment on your son," Tucker shot back.

The Fentons and Team Phantom entered the house in silence. Maddie took one of the two chairs in the living room. Jack reluctantly sat down on the other, facing their son who floated above the couch.

"Family of choice," Sam sat down next to Danny on the couch. Tucker sat on his other side, opposite of Jack.

Jazz shook her head, "This is a wonderful start," as she sat between the two groups.

"What are we going to do?" Jack Fenton asked.

"Whatever we do, we need to do it soon because you have school tomorrow young man," Maddie lectured on reflex. It felt good. Normal, amid a gross abnormality. As if her son wasn't a ghost.

"Mom, dad, I can't transform back into human. I've been trying the whole way back," Danny said.

"But you could go back to school and live a normal life?" said Jack. "We just have to disguise…"

"Dad. Mom. You installed ghost detectors in the school last year. I had a hard-enough time with those as a halfa."

"Oh yeah…"

"Can we please resolve the past before we look into the future?" asked Jazz.

"School is tomorrow morning honey," Maddie looked at the clock, "Later this morning. If he's…you're not there sweetie…" Maddie trailed off. Then the world would know the truth: that they'd murdered their son. And wouldn't that be justice? Wouldn't that be right?

"I have to tell everyone," Danny said.

"What?" Even Sam and Tucker stared at him. "Seriously dude, your secret identity?"

"I can't keep it secret," said Danny. "I'm a full ghost. My 'life' is over with anyway…and it's better that people know I exist than think I'm dead-dead. As long as you're okay with it?"

"You mean the loads of fanatic Phans knowing we're your girlfriend and best friend and also knowing our addresses?" Sam said dryly.

"Just tell them to go to the Fentons," Tucker said.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Any good suggestions for announcing your death?" Jazz asked sarcastically.

A ghost suddenly swooped through the wall, reminding everyone that they had not (the Fentons) or could not (Team Phantom) put up the ghost shields again. Long, glowing hair pulled up in a ponytail and a familiar guitar slung over her back. "You asshole."

"Ember?" Danny looked confused.

"It's your deathday and I had to find out through the ghost grape vine? Seriously dick move dude…and because of that, you're gonna wait a whole 'nother year for any presents from me."

Ember blithely ignore the two ecto guns pointed at her. Maddie decided to rectify that. "Get out ghost! Get out. Get out. Get out." She punctuated each phrase with an ecto-gun blast.

"Hey." Ember dove back into the wall only to poke her head out. "I was just offering congrats, no need to blast my head off." She ducked back as another shot slammed where her head had been.

"Hey, easy," Danny pulled the gun away. "That's…normal. For ghosts. That must have been what Wulf meant."

"Oh yeah, death day…" Tucker said.

"Would you be my friend?" Kempler was the next ghost to burst in, or else the most suicidal.

"Ghoooossst!"

Jazz grabbed the ecto-gun from her dad's hands. Just in time, as Kempler was only the first in a flood of ghosts. Wulf smiled sheepishly while offering a rather clumsily wrapped present in one massive paw. "Dankon," Danny said.

"Danny Phantom. What an unexpected but heroic end," Ghost Writer circled the room, quill in one hand, journal in another. "I must thank you for the inspiration. Tell me everything…" he said, quill poised.

"That's my line," Spectra floated in, her own journal and pen at the ready. "Lie down, get comfortable. Do tell me how you feel?"

Danny scowled at both, but before he could say anything, Skulker shoved both ghosts out of the way, sheer anguish on his robotic face. "It's true," he said mournfully and slumped, head bowed. "Who was it that felled you Phantom?" He lifted his head and, more loudly, "What hunter outdid the ghost zone's greatest hunter?" He slammed his fist on his metal chest. "Tell me their name and I shall hunt them down and bring you their pelt as your death-day gift."

"Someone who's gone and never coming back," Danny said.

"Ah, even that glory denied to me. Well, happy death-day welp. Now I must mourn that I did not have a hand in the glory of your demise."

Danny rolled his eyes, "Gee, thanks."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," said Ghost Writer, "Of course you wouldn't have killed him. That wouldn't have been nearly climatic enough. Or realistic."

"Why you…" Skulker turned on the writer ghost.

"Now just one minute you. All of you." Maddie glared at the room full of ghosts. "What is this and more importantly why is it taking place in our house?"

"A death day party of course." Said Nocturne. "Tis a cause for celebration."

"My son's death is not a cause for celebration ghost."

"His life was," Princess Dorathea said, "They are both types of existence. Why not celebrate it?"

The next ghost to arrive was one everyone recognized. "The Wisconsin Ghost!" Jack shouted. "What's it doing here?"

"I'd like to know too," Jazz's eyes narrowed dangerously.

The ghost in question sneered at Jack before directing his answer to Danny, "Merely here for the same reason we all are. To offer my congratulations and commiserations to young Daniel. Should you need some time away," now he disdainfully acknowledged Jack, "My door is always open."

"Thanks but no thanks. They know and they accept me."

"That's right," said Maddie. She might not have known exactly what was going on, but only a fool could ignore the possessive vibes this ghost gave off. "He has us as family." And she stood between the ghost and her son.

Danny's face suddenly split into a wicked looking grin. He floated past his mom and wrapped one arm around the Wisconsin ghost's shoulder in a friendly way if not for the tight grip. "Hey Vlad," the ghost winced, "I don't think you've ever been properly introduced. Vlad, this is my mom and dad. Guys, this is—"

"You little…badger."

"Vlad? Hey, I've got a friend named Vlad too," said Jack.

"Here," the ghost, Vlad, shoved a package at Danny, "So sorry. Important things to do. Must leave." And he vanished through the ceiling. Just outside, from the rooftop, they heard a pained yelp.

Tucker smirked and moved his thumb away from a button. "Whoops."

"You had better not be planning to do that with us," said Amorpho.

"As long as you behave," Tucker warned.

"Beware!" Another ghost appeared through the wall. "I am the Box Ghost. And in honor of your death Danny Phantom, I have brought my most prized possessions." Dozens of boxes floated through the living room walls behind him.

Johnny 13 sauntered in afterward, winking. "And I brought what's inside."

"Wait a minute. Hold that." Walker floated up and tore into one of the boxes, pulling out a bottle. "That's contraband. And he's way too young."

Wulf grabbed Walker from behind with one clawed paw, shredded the fabric of the living realm with the other and shoved the warden through the hole.

"Oh no you don't," Maddie said. "That ghost was right." She tried to yank the bottles away. "None of that until he's twenty-one."

"Bah, old enough to die. Old enough to drink," Ember grabbed a bottle. She was only the first and ghosts outnumbered Fentons by a dozen to one.

The party, lubricated by alcohol, dissolved from there. Jack tried grabbing his ecto-bazooka from his daughter. Maddie used the distraction to slip away and re-activate the ghost security system. This was too much. Far too much. It went beyond good ghosts or bad ghosts and right over into too many ghosts. Even for an ectologist.

The dark ghost that looked like a piece of the night sky in humanoid form, swooped over her. "My apologies, but this is to your son's benefit."

And Maddie knew no more.

Danny grabbed his mother as she fell. Jack also slumped on the couch, snoring. "What did you do with them?"

"Merely sent them to sleep, no need to be troubled."

"What kind of sleep?" Danny asked suspiciously.

"The kind they desperately need. They have been deprived of a good night's sleep for too long. Consider it my deathday gift to you. They'll sleep the rest of the night and the day away."

"Now come enjoy yourself," Desiree floated up. "Every other day we shall be bitter enemies, but for this one day, you'll get your wish."

Would he? Danny thought, but joined the party.

As drunkenness gave way to hangovers and confetti gave way to cleaning up, Clockwork floated in, looking… "Woah, you look like the one who should have the death day party."

"Not quite an apt description, but close enough," the Time Ghost said.

"Clockwork? What happened?" Jazz, the soberest of all, asked. "Did…did Dark Danny do this to you?"

"No," and Clockwork looked despairing. "Danny, I am sorry. While I had no direct hand in your future self's escape, I foresaw it, but chose not to intervene."

All of Team Phantom looked as though he'd punched their guts. "Why?"

"There was a still graver future…or a lack of one, I was preventing. Still, you bore the worst of the consequences for that choice and for that, I apologize."

"It's not like we can…well, maybe you can turn back time?" Danny looked at Clockwork. "Can you?"

"I could warn your younger self what was about to happen. Much as I did when I warned you of your future self in the first place. Would that make a difference in the outcome?"

"You're the one with the timey-whimey sense."

Clockwork's gaze turned inward for a moment, then he shook his head. "Even if you knew it would cost you your life…you would do it anyway. Thank you, Danny. You have obtained a new existence, that is true and something to celebrate. But you have lost another existence, a comfortable and treasured one and that is to be mourned."

Clockwork bowed and left. "Well," said Sam, "Goodbye drunkenness, hello sobriety."

"We should start cleaning this up while your parents are still asleep," Tucker said. "Or they're gonna have ten kinds of heart attack when they wake up."

Danny looked around at a living room near buried with ghosts. "Yeah."

Wulf helped drop off all the uninvited guests before offering one last thanks and departing himself. The next order of business was to get Danny's parents up to bed. Danny and Jazz took Jack while Tucker and Sam balanced Maddie between them, both fast asleep. "You guys have a plan to take me down, right?" Danny said beneath his father's weight.

"You're not _him_." Sam said fiercely.

Danny glanced at his now icy-blue hands. "I could be."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Skin deep dude. Frostbite's best healers scanned your core. It's stable. _Nothing_ like his _._ "

"But—" Jazz silenced her brother with a finger.

"How can you be him Danny? When you died defending all of us from him? When you died surrounded by friends and family?"

In a smaller voice, Danny said, "But…just in case."

"If it makes you feel better. Just in case."

"Thanks."

* * *

Maddie hadn't expected such a large crowd at a time like this. News reporters filmed, lured by the promise of a juicy story. Most of Casper High had been shepherded to the gravesite of one of their own. Vice Principal Lancer stared down at the tombstone with the expression of someone wondering how they'd failed.

Oh, you have no idea.

"We are gathered here today for a very different kind of funeral," she began. Voice steadier than it should have been. It helped to have talked to her dead son not half an hour ago. "Our son Danny, he was…killed," she swallowed a hard knot in her throat, "By a ghost. Before he…died, he confessed a secret. Something he had been hiding since he was fourteen years old."

A ghost appeared above the gravestone.

"Phantom?"

"Is that Danny Phantom?"

"He looks different."

Cameras zeroed in as whispers erupted in the crowd. Much like when Maddie and Jack had first proposed their idea to Danny. Flames above and below, how had that lead to this? Squaring his shoulders, Danny readied himself to reveal his biggest secret. "I am Danny Phantom. I am also Danny Fenton."

From the back, came Wes's shout. "I knew it!"

"Curse of Capistrano." The Vice Principal exclaimed.

"No way." Dash said.

Danny raised one ironic eyebrow, "Danny Fenton. Danny Phantom? Come on, I didn't even wear a mask."

"Who expects a ghost to be a human," Paulina shot back. "Oh my god?" Her hands flew to her mouth. "Have you been dead? All this time?"

"No. The other ghosts called me a halfa. Half human, half ghost. The actual dying thing?" The faint smile slipped from his face. "That's new."

"A couple weeks ago, a really horrible ghost escaped. Worse than Pariah Dark," Danny bowed his head. "He's gone now. Dead-dead and never coming back but…he blasted a hole in my chest first. My parents and ghosts from the Far Frozen tried to save me. They couldn't save my life, but they saved my existence." He raised his head. "I'm a full ghost now."

"Why are you telling us this?" Lance Thunder asked.

"Why not? Can't live a normal human life like this," He motioned to himself. "Had a hard-enough time as a half ghost."

"What…what will you do now?" Asked Mr. Lancer.

"I…"

Squealing tires interrupted him. Danny glanced briefly at the Fenton van, but it sat innocently by the curb, wires spilling out of several compartments from his parents' hasty efforts to Danny-proof it.

Instead, a pair of familiar white vans screeched to a stop in the grass. Agents K and O jumped out, guns blazing. "Cease and desist ghost. Surrender peacefully now," Click, click, "Or be forcibly detained."

"Seriously guys? At my funeral?" Danny asked.

Jack and Maddie jumped in front of their son, their ecto-guns also blazing.

Pointed at the GIW.

"Don't. You. Dare."

The agents glanced from the ghost, hands glowing with icy power, to the Fentons standing between a ghost and them. "They're not possessed," Agent K whispered. "Scans coming up clear."

"It's a ghost. It can't live like a human anymore. It can't be part of your family," Agent O tried to reason with them.

Maddie and Jack stared back, deadly intent in every rigid line of their expressions. The sort of intent that said, 'no one will ever find the body if you harm my child'.

"Yes, he can."


End file.
